Kingslayer
by macrauchenia
Summary: Ten years after the Ichinose Clan was violently purged from the kingdom, Guren returns to fulfill a fateful prophecy: steal the life of the Hiiragi heir. Branded as a traitor and a kingslayer, Guren has no choice but to play along with Mahiru's twisted game. The only problem? His target, Shinya Hiiragi, doesn't plan on dying anytime soon. [Medieval!AU] [Inspired by the Light Novel]
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. Not a thing.  
 **Author's Note:** I know, I know. Not _another_ multi-chap fic, but I have 6+ chapters already finished so I thought it was time to start posting. I'll update every other month.

There are slight deviations from canon, but nothing too significant. Here, Guren and company are the same ages as they are in the light novels (i.e. teenagers).  
In terms of the universe, think Game of Thrones. Y'know-royal scandal, murder, and sarcastic minstrels.

* * *

As he picked himself out of the mud for the second time that day, Guren started to regret his decision to come alone. He rubbed the blood-speckled mud from his pulsing lip and spat out the gritty, metallic mixture that managed to seep through his clenched teeth and coat his tongue. He watched his latest assailant saunter off, drunkenly chuckling at reducing another "street urchin" to pulp.

 _No,_ he reasoned, cautiously rising to his feet in case the stranger happened to turn his head. _It's better that I came alone. I can't imagine Sayuri or Shigure faring better._

He suppressed a wry smile at their parting words. Sayuri had been close to hysterics while Shigure attempted to glare a hole through him. He promised to wait an extra day for them to prepare, but then took advantage of their placated packing and disappeared in the night.

 _If this damn city doesn't kill me first, they'll finish the job after I left without them. Still, I think they finally got the message—I've been here for a week with still no sign of them._ He had sent a letter with rendezvous instructions, but his carrier, a traveler heading in the opposite direction, could only be so reliable.

 _No matter. This won't take me much longer. Once I get inside the damn castle, I'm through._

Guren shrugged to himself and turned, shielding his eyes from the hot midafternoon sun as he scanned his environment. His lips drew up into a thoughtful frown and his squinting eyes caught on the familiar gray stone.

 _Has it really been ten years?_

His glazed stare passed over the crimson flag, billowing in the soft breeze.

Yes, it had been ten years since the Hiiragis tore down the Ichinose emerald crest and replaced it with their own monstrosity. Ten years since his family was forced into hiding, barely surviving amongst the rest of the Hiiragi enemies.

He had been carefully skirting around the main entrance of the castle for the past few days. Although he assumed no one would recognize him (he doubted many passing peasants even remembered the Ichinose name), Guren wanted to be sure, laying low as he watched the guards pour in and out of the front gate in their daily routines.

When the predictability became comforting, Guren knew it was finally time to set his plan in action and move closer. He refused to hesitate as he stepped over the drawbridge threshold and planted himself further into enemy territory.

He had the perfect cover. Covered in mud and filth, he no longer resembled the banished heir of the lost Ichinose dynasty. Instead, he looked no more dignified than a pig keeper's apprentice. Guards and traders turned their noses as he passed by, sparing only a second of their attention to step further away from his stench.

After establishing a thoroughly disgusting and convincing cover, he only had to wait for the perfect opportunity to infiltrate the castle when the guards would be at their most consumed.

Fortunately, that moment would come soon. After swapping his last bread crust for information, Guren had heard from a fellow beggar that the crown prince to the Hiiragi throne was to celebrate his coronation as heir presumptive on the following day.

 _It would be polite to extend my…congratulations._

* * *

"Young Lord…"

A light knocking sounded at his door. He lowered his book and blinked at the door expectantly, almost as if someone would burst through. No one would dare enter his apartments without permission, but he almost wished someone would toss aside the formality. It would certainly make things more interesting.

He sighed and glanced back to his book, finishing the words on the page before gently setting it aside.

"Young Lord?" The voice was louder, less hesitant. "Have you awaken yet?"

Shinya suppressed an amused laugh. Judging by the sun's position and the warm yellow glow streaming through his window pane, it was nearly noon. If he slept to such late hours every day, he deserved every rumor the kitchen staff cooked up.

He rubbed at his red-rimmed eyes, stinging from hours of staring at pamphlets and lists. If the swirling, chaotic thoughts about the upcoming ceremony hadn't kept him up, he probably would be still sleeping.

 _No matter. It's time to be productive for once._

He swung his feet from their curled up position by his side and planted them on the ground.

"I am awake," he called to the door. "You are welcome to enter."

There was a pause before the door creaked open slowly. A young woman shuffled in slowly, giving Shinya ample time to make himself presentable. Fully clothed by the window, he smiled as his visitor.

"Hello, Miss Aiuchi. I hope things are well. Is there something you need from me?"

She smiled back, smoothing down her seamless dress in a nervous, primping manner. "I hate to trouble you so close to yo—"

"It isn't a bother at all! How can I help?" He interrupted her before she could finish.

Miss Aiuchi's relieved smile grew at Shinya's receptive attitude. It was always easier for her when the royal family decided to cooperate.

"The king wished for you to be fitted for a new outfit for tomorrow's ceremony. Lord Seishirou will be accompanying us. Apparently he too must have work done on his-"

Shinya laughed, setting aside his book and pulling himself into a standing position. "Did he split the seams in his royal trousers from the last banquet?"

Instead of going along with a joke, Miss Aiuchi looked horrified, glancing over her shoulder for any wandering ears. Shinya's laugh dried up quickly, his grin being replaced by a somber frown.

"I assume the tailor was unable to come to the castle himself?"

He did not relish the notion of riding through the busy streets, especially with Seishirou. Thinking of the ogling eyes and the relentless sun made his stomach slosh.

Miss Aiuchi bowed her head. "It was not my place to ask why."

He didn't push the matter anymore. If the king wanted to parade him through the streets again, dragging his foster brother in tow, he was powerless to object.

Shinya's smile faltered before he fixed it again. The tension disappeared so quickly that he doubted Miss Aiuchi had even managed to sense it.

 _This will be over by tomorrow. I won't have to worry about all of this ridiculous pomp and circumstance anymore._

It was a nice lie, but a lie nonetheless.

* * *

A freshly posted sign caught Guren's eye. He paused in the middle of the cramped alley, studying it with a cocked head and a thoughtful frown. The carefully scripted letters weren't intended for a pig apprentice's illiterate eyes, but he read the words without trouble.

He hummed to himself, scanning over the event details meant for wealthy guests before looking back at the accompanying portrait. The details were of poor quality, but Guren was able to piece together a rough mental image and compare it with the description from his instructions.

 _I'm glad my informer was so thorough. This picture could have matched half a dozen people in the tavern alone._

Guren's gaze flicked back to the words on the sign.

 _Why do they call it a coronation? He isn't becoming the king—he's being named the crown prince._

Guren narrowed his eyes.

 _It sounds like a pretty fancy ceremony for something pretty unimportant._

A light, twinkling laugh sounded to Guren's right. He stiffened, shooting a cautious side-glance to his new visitor. She—he assumed from the high-pitched giggle—was wrapped in a stained and torn cloak that concealed her face and hair.

"You poor pig boy! Can't even read the daily news." From within her cloak, Guren saw intelligent, bright eyes peering back at him.

His gaze quickly swept across her garments, noticing the intentional tears and fresh stains. _The material of the fabric is too rich—too nice—to belong to a beggar. It looks like she intentionally destroyed a high quality cloak to make it look like she was a commoner like me._

"I read your letter easily enough."

The stranger's shoulders slumped as the thrill of the game dissipated. She yanked the cloak back over her head, pouting at Guren with plump lips.

"No fair." Her lilting whine caused Guren's chest to constrict reflexively at the familiarity.

It had been a long time since he heard her voice.

"Lady Mahiru."

She fluffed her ashen hair, fanning it out to fall delicately across her shoulders. Her glinting eyes landed on Guren like a hungry hawk.

"You don't have to be so formal, Guren. Don't you remember how _close_ we used to be?"

"We were six," Guren countered with a dry scoff. Now that Mahiru had finally revealed herself, he returned his gaze back to the poster. "Hardly more than playdates."

He could feel her curious stare boring into the side of his head, but he refused to meet her eyes.

"Surely you know that's not true."

He didn't respond, but instead scratched at a piece of dirt on his cheek.

With an indescribable sigh, Mahiru stepped closer to Guren, intentionally brushing her fingertips against his thin sleeve. Out of his periphery, he watched her angle her head towards the announcement, a cold frown rising across her lips.

She hated the prince. She wanted him dead.

 _She's definitely the one who invited me here. I know what she wants…but why?_

"Why do you wa—"

Mahiru interrupted him with a flirtatious smile, tapping the tip of her nose with a lithe finger.

"Now, now. You know we can't be discussing sedition on the front steps of the castle. Ears are everywhere." Her eyebrows tilted upwards, as did the corner of her pressed lips. Guren narrowed his eyes, caught off-guard by her blatantly amused attitude to the notion of high treason.

 _She isn't the same._

Guren had had his suspicions when he received the letter a month ago, but her tilting, jagged motions and carefree laughter confirmed his concerns.

 _There's something off about her now._

"We can discuss this more later," she continued. "Somewhere where we won't be overheard." A soft, sweet smile grew across her lips. "I think you know where I'm talking about."

Guren's gut clenched subconsciously at the painful reminder of more peaceful, innocent times. A grassy field, rows of wild flowers.

Mahiru studied his face for a few beats of silence, her burnt honey eyes ravenously consuming his features. She opened her mouth to say something, but Guren turned away, forcing his pounding heart back into a normal rhythm.

 _I can't let her get to me. Not again._

"I'll meet you at sunset.

* * *

Although he didn't want to admit it out loud, Guren felt a bit rattled by his reunion with Mahiru. When he first got the letter, unsigned with no indicator of the addresser's identity apart from a childhood nickname tossed in the opening, Guren immediately realized it was from Mahiru. The confident bragging of her infallible plan and her remorseless request reminded him so undeniably of Mahiru, even after ten years of separation.

From her letter, he could tell something was different. Her scrawl seemed too tight, too angry to be sanely controlled. Still, he couldn't deny his curiosity and his muted feelings as he committed the crown prince's features to memory before destroying the evidence in fire.

After speaking to Mahiru, even for a brief moment, he wondered if he had made a mistake in returning. She had offered no explanation either time for why she wanted her fiancé dead. As far as he knew, she could have simply grown bored of the little prince and decided to yank Guren back through the memories for her malicious pleasure.

 _It would be like her to do that too,_ Guren sighed, rubbing the back of his neck and releasing a hoarse laugh. _Forcing me to do her dirty work._

Like a lovelorn hunting dog, he came when his mistress called. He was just as pathetic.

Determined to be at least half of a step ahead of Mahiru's vindictive plan, he decided to collect his own intelligence on the crown prince.

 _For someone in such a dangerous position, the prince shouldn't come and go with such a dramatic fanfare,_ Guren observed dryly, watching the covered procession pass by his shadowy overhang.

 _It would be so easy to kill him now while he's exposed._ Guren caught a flash of silver before the silken curtain concealed a face at the window. His fingers hovered over his hidden pocket, concealing an equally sharp piece of silver.

 _I don't know what the Hiiragis think they're doing._

He considered the blade in his pocket and the promised bounty from Mahiru's letter.

 _Or maybe they know_ exactly _what they're doing._

Guren took a deep breath before darting out in front of the crown prince's carriage. He felt the front wheel clip his side and he tumbled backwards, releasing a pitiful cry as he fell to the dusty ground. He quickly tucked his knees to his chest in case the driver decided to back up and finish the deed.

"Wait! Stop!"

Guren squinted towards the youthful voice, blinded by the sunlight striking the glittering sides of the carriage. The carriage slowed to a grating stop, accompanied by the impatient whinnying and stomping of the horses. The silken curtain fluttered back before the door popped open, casting Guren back into the shadows.

"Lord Shinya-! Come back!"

Guren looked up, meeting the wide blue eyes of the crown prince, staring down at him from the threshold of the carriage door. His lips were pursed in a disinterested frown, though Guren could see his gaze roam over him, checking for any significant signs of injury. When he found none, his stare darted back to Guren's eyes. The corners of his lips flicked up slightly, but immediately disappeared when movement inside the carriage heralded a second observer.

"Lord Shinya! Get back before the pea—"

The crown prince broke his solemn staring contest with Guren before glancing over his shoulder, offering a small, polite smile to whomever was inside.

"I assure you everything is fine, Miss Aiuchi."

Shinya tilted his head back towards Guren and stepped off the carriage ladder. He squatted in front of him, hovering a few inches above Guren's inky eyebrows to maintain a height imbalance.

"Are you injured?"

Guren pulled himself into a sitting position, emphasizing his injured leg by dragging it limply after him. The pain was nothing, but he knew he needed to play it up as much as possible to elicit either the Hiiragi pity or rage. He offered no answer apart from a diverted gaze. He wanted to leave as much up to the prince's interpretation as possible.

"Is that how you greet the Hiiragi family?" An unpleasant looking teenager appeared over the crown prince's shoulder, lifting up his protruding lip in a snarl. "You're getting dust on my boot, you filthy mongrel!" An idea struck the older teen and his dark eyes lit up with a cruel glee.

 _He must be one of the real Hiiragis. I'd recognize those dead eyes anywhere._

"Why don't you _clean_ them for me?" The dark haired teen shoved his boot in Guren's direction, pressing heavily against his chest before pushing him down. Guren feigned pain, releasing a tiny gasp. He could sense the crowd around him, pulsing and receding with interest. It wasn't every day that the Hiiragi princes graced their presence. This extended interaction would be the talk of the town for a week.

Guren glanced back to Shinya's blankly schooled expression.

 _Well, he didn't try to stop his idiot companion, but he isn't hurting things either._

 _He seems rather…ineffectual._

"Seishirou—" Shinya interrupted, an indescribable expression flickering across his features. Guren couldn't figure out if he was truly useless or faking it.

Seishirou paused mid-stomp before sending a sour glance in Shinya's direction. "Don't tell me you're going to stick up for this filthy mongrel!"

Shinya's smile turned strained as he tilted his head towards Seishirou. "If I were you, I wouldn't get too close, otherwise you might catch his fleas. Who knows what pests grow on swine."

Seishirou jerked his foot back with another disgusted cry. "You're absolutely right." He shot Guren another affronted glare before darting back to the carriage.

 _Interesting… He's practically trained. I have found the Hiiragi dog, it seems._ His gaze shifted back to Shinya, who straightened up with a stiff groan.

 _But what are_ you _?_

"I'm surprised you got hit," he laughed, crinkling his blue eyes in amusement. "The horses should have smelled you a town away!" He fished in his pockets for something before tossing a shimmering coin towards Guren.

"Here, the Hiiragi family begs you to take a bath."

Guren caught the piece with a nimble catch and curled his grimy fingers to hide the value from the curious crowd.

Shinya opened his mouth to say something else before an impatient shouting erupted from the carriage's interior. Moving his bright gaze over Guren, he smiled and waved at the cheering crowd before disappearing within the carriage. With a crack of the whip, the horses set off again and Guren pulled his legs back quickly to prevent any further injury.

Behind him, the crowd erupted into hushed gossip.

 _"So handsome! So merciful!"_

 _"Such a generous boy!"_

 _"Fine choice for the crown prince!"_

Strong hands grabbed Guren's shoulders and hoisted him to his feet. He jerked his head to the side in time to catch his helper wink at him.

"Yer lucky it was the crown prince who hit ya." Guren tilted his head, waiting for the man to continue. "The other Lords woulda told the driver to back up and hit ya again."

Guren glanced down at the coin clenched in his sweaty palm. It was a new gold piece, freshly pressed with the Hiiragi crest.

He could afford to rent an entire bathhouse for the night with this much money, much less purchase a single bath. Hell, he could afford to buy a bath in the royal palace.

Guren smiled, tucking the coin close to his chest.

 _That actually isn't a bad idea…_

* * *

 **Thanks for reading!** See you in two months!


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

 **Author's Note:** Hopefully everyone seems in character! Smart characters like the powertrio (Mahiru, Guren, and Shinya) are always tricky. Thanks!

* * *

Since he arrived first, Guren took a tentative moment to relive his childhood. He inhaled deeply, breathing in the fresh smells. They had used to play in the lively heat of summer where colors blossomed and wildflowers thrived, but even in the dying autumn light, the honeyed scent of the phlox patches still lingered in the air. He knew if he were to open his eyes in that moment, he would still see the low-lying violet blossoms he had used to make silly bouquets a lifetime ago.

"You remember it all, don't you?"

He hadn't even heard her approach over the soft hum of the cicadas. He slowly opened his eyes, content to watch his once fond memories shimmer and fade. If he dwelled on the impossible for too long, he might go mad.

"It was a long time ago."

"But you still remember?" Mahiru was relentless, pressing closer towards him. "How it used to be when we were so happy?"

"We were kids," Guren repeated again, glancing over her shoulder at the brilliant sunset bleeding across the sky. _It's almost poetic, all this blood about to be shed._

 _I hate poetry._

"The cook sneaking us sweets before meals was enough to make us just as happy back then."

Mahiru pouted at his refusal to play along. She leaned forward, catching his twitching fingers with her own. "That isn't what you told me ten years ago." She considered his stoic silence and sighed, dropping his tense hand with a disappointed shake of the head.

"I see you've changed, Guren."

For the first time since being in her company, Guren felt the urge to laugh. "You're one to talk. After all those promises about how we'd be together forever, my family was banished and I never heard from you again. Then ten years later I receive a note about murdering the next Hiiragi heir?" Guren's eyebrow darted up as his chuckle turned bitter. "What happened to you?"

Instead of growing defensive, Mahiru simply smiled. "So you're going to help me after all? I thought you would."

Guren narrowed his eyes. Although he wouldn't admit the results of his reconnaissance to her, he had not found anything that suggested the crown prince would be a threat to the Hiiragi throne. If anything, Guren had to grudgingly admit that Shinya Hiiragi would make a far better ruler than his hotheaded brother.

 _At least, he would be fairer and kinder, which, considering the Hiiragi bloodlust, makes him dangerously weak. So maybe that's how they can justify his death._

More likely than not, he assumed Mahiru's revulsion for the prince was due to her own personal feelings instead of a genuine concern for her father's stolen kingdom. He doubted she bothered to consider her people's fate in the quest to disrupt her fiancé's fate.

"First, I need more information. You refused to answer this earlier, but _why_ do you want the crown prince dead?"

Instead of answering him directly, Mahiru went off on another tangent.

"You're confused because you don't remember him," she stated. Guren's brow twitched, but he kept his stern gaze fixed on her coy smile. "If he's our age, you should have remembered him all those years ago, right? You can't believe you overlooked the _future_ _Hiiragi heir."_

"Even when you were destined for the throne, you weren't foolish enough to ignore your greatest rival, were you?"

Guren frowned openly at her words. Although his memories from his days in the castle were hazy at best, he knew seeing the prince earlier that day should have triggered memories. After all, he remembered Seishirou's ugly sneer without a problem.

Mahiru's twinkling laugh broke into his sluggish thoughts.

"He wasn't born into the Hiiragi clan, you know."

"He wasn't?"

He exhaled and let his tense shoulders drop.

 _That means I didn't overlook him all those years ago. That is…a relief._ For some reason, Mahiru's snide comments struck him more than he thought they would. He didn't appreciate being reminded of how naïve he was as a child.

Mahiru shook her head, bouncing the ashen strands with each movement.

"My father _adopted_ him. _Rescued_ him from the local tavern only days after his coronation. His tattered, flea-infested clothes barely had time to burn before he was dressed in the finest of silks."

Guren pressed his lips together in a wry smile. "That hardly seems in his nature, saving poor orphans from a life of poverty."

 _It makes sense,_ Guren added in his head. _The crown prince looks nothing like the Hiiragi family. However, I'm a bit surprised we didn't hear about this sooner. Ten years is a long time to hide an heir._

Mahiru mirrored his expression with a strained grimace of her own. "I assure you, my father did not do it out of the goodness of his frozen heart."

 _What sort of motive would drive a newly crowned king to adopt a nameless stable boy? Not a good one, I bet._

"Then why did he do it?" Guren considered the Hiiragi family, dwelling over the stern Kureto, who seemed destined to rule even from childhood. He surveyed Mahiru in front of him, deceivingly strong and vicious. "Surely he had other options for successors instead of looking outside the castle's walls."

Guren paused, considering the best words to bait her.

"Unless of course, the crown prince _surpasses_ you in abilities?"

" _Ha!"_ Mahiru's laugh was sharp, bitter, and completely devoid of humor. He relished the pointed disgust on her face. It was one of the first genuine expressions she had shown him "Perhaps he could rival Seishirou, but that isn't much of a compliment. He can barely hold a sword without cutting himself. He lacks all substance when it comes to dealing with political affairs. His grasp of m—" Mahiru cut off abruptly, pressing her lips together with a coy smile.

"But what does it matter if he's going to die, hmm?"

Guren narrowed his eyes. She had almost let an important detail slip, but she had caught herself in time.

 _I suppose it doesn't matter though. Whatever problem he has is his business._

"No… In fact, Father didn't even name him heir until a few weeks ago. The prophet advised him to keep the situation quiet."

"A prophet was involved…?"

Guren's inky eyebrows darted towards his hairline. _A prophet? I thought the Hiiragis didn't care for superstitious claims like that. I always assumed they preferred to make their own destiny._

"I was surprised too," Mahiru continued with a disinterested shrug. "I thought Father would have been wary of someone like that. After all, listening to false prophecy partly led to the downfall to the previous king, didn't it?"

The acidic, offhanded comment stung, but Guren maintained his hooded stare.

"Let me guess the next part: the prophet swore that the greatest heir to the Hiiragi throne would be some snot nosed brat in a tavern? And this snot nosed brat was _coincidentally_ the son of the prophet's dead sister? Or was he picked for some other self-serving reason?"

"Close, but not quite." Mahiru's smile grew dangerous as she tilted her head. "The prophet warned my father that revenge would come for his family. Specifically, it would strike the next in line to the throne. Well, my father couldn't risk naming any of his children as heirs to have some assassin destroy them. It would be _such_ a waste of resources."

Guren knew enough about the twisted dynamics of the Hiiragis to understand she wasn't being sarcastic. Tenri Hiiragi considered each of his progeny as political assets, born to be wielded and bartered for power as needed.

"He didn't want to divert too much attention from consolidating his new power, so instead he decided to use a random child as a decoy for the Hiiragi throne until the day fate intervened. The time will come soon, since my father finally announced Shinya as the heir." Mahiru's eyebrow quirked upwards.

"Shinya has started his private lessons, but they're all for show."

Guren felt a sharp twinge in his gut before it dissipated in a rush of indifference. Sure, he felt sorry for the kid, but there wasn't much anyone could do about it now.

 _It's cruel—even for a Hiiragi—to raise an innocent child to be an unknowing scapegoat._

He thought back to the beginning of the story, how Tenri Hiiragi had plucked him from a life of squalor in a tavern back alley. _He probably wouldn't have lived long there anyway. Living with the Hiiragis would be awful, but at least he had protection. An assassin's knife would be better than starvation._

"Why'd your father pick Shinya? Why not someone younger or someone who already knew the rules of nobility?"

 _Why not Seishirou and then this mysterious assassin could have done us_ all _a favor. I doubt the prophet intended to cause innocent bloodshed, especially of some orphan._

Mahiru shrugged. "I don't know. No one seems to know why he picked him in the first place." There was a beat of silence. "I didn't figure it all out until I overheard him mumbling about the prophecy a few years later," she admitted. "He still thinks he's the only one who knows about it."

"What about the prophet?"

"He's dead. An unfortunate accident."

"..."

Guren was familiar with the family's preferred methods of burying secrets. He paused before changing the subject.

"What exactly did this prophecy say?"

"Hmm…? That the Kingslayer will steal the Hiiragi heir's life."

 _Steal? Kingslayer? Why do prophets always have to be so damn cryptic?_

 _What's the criteria for being a kingslayer anyway?_

"That's why I wanted you here. After all, you're the finest kingslayer in all the lands, aren't you, Guren?"

Guren swallowed, ignoring the persistent twist in his gut.

 _She wants me to be her faithful pet and put the prince down. We're all dogs to her._

"The king knows nothing of your plan." The words came out more like an accusation then he intended. "You're going to assassinate the crown prince to fulfill the prophecy yourself. It's an unsolicited act of high treason."

She shrugged, looking disinterested again. "There's nothing wrong with self-fulfilled prophecies. Besides, my father is convinced that his enemies won't strike until his puppet sits beside him. _I_ want to be free of my strings before that day—preferably before I'm forced to marry the fool." Her gaze flicked back to Guren, heavy with an underlying implication.

"I could become the next ruler. I could change so many things."

The unspoken _"for us"_ lingered in the air between them.

 _Could it really be that simple? She thinks he's the only thing that stands in her way to power? That when he's gone, things can go back to the way they were? She'll have Kureto and Seishirou to contend with. Besides, if this prophecy really is true, then my meddling will end up leaving a true Hiiragi as an open target once their "cover" is out of the way. I highly doubt I'm the_ Kingslayer _the prophet spoke of._

 _She must be truly desperate to attempt this._

However, as Guren committed to memory her petite pout and large eyes against the backdrop of violet blossoms, he realized that he was just as much of a gambler.

* * *

"Oi! Pig boy! Get outta my shop before I send you to the stocks!"

Guren turned slowly, eyeing the red-faced shopkeeper as he stormed in his direction.

"I don't need the likes of you dirtying my wares. 'Specially not today!"

Guren slipped one hand in his pocket while running his other hand through his mud-caked hair. He supposed he did look rather disgusting after spending the night curled in the bushes by a sentry tower. He still wasn't sure if his runny nose and chattering teeth were worth the guards' gossip. He relished the moment where he could be free from his filthy disguises and relax in his father's home.

He tugged the golden coin from the secret lining in his pocket and rolled it across his knuckles, taking great care to catch the shine from the early morning sun. The shopkeeper froze in his tracks and narrowed his eyes at the coin, watching as it jumped from the back of Guren's hands to settle between his pinched fingers.

"You best run off before I call the guards. The only way you'd 'ave that coin was if you stole it from some lord."

Guren smiled thinly. "Actually, it was a gift."

"Ha!" the shopkeeper guffawed, shaking his head. "I don't care if it was a gift from the crown prince 'imself. You didn't come by it 'onestly." He lifted his arms to flag for the guards standing on the opposite corner.

"Oh, but it was," Guren countered, his tight lipped smile growing wider. "Lord Shinya insisted that I use it to buy a new servant uniform."

The shopkeeper kept his narrowed gaze on Guren as he slowly lowered his arm. Guren got the impression that the man wasn't convinced, but he didn't need his trust.

He only needed another disguise.

"Well…" The shopkeeper hesitated before his eyes darted back to the golden coin. "If the crown prince _insists..."_

Guren's forced expression relaxed into a genuine smile. _That's it. I know your greed shadows your loyalty to strangers in silver rooms._

The shopkeeper sighed before brushing his hands together. Guren heard the man utter a faint "too old for this" before he disappeared behind a set of shelves. After a moment of shuffling and grunting, the man returned with a dusty but otherwise undamaged package.

"This should fit ya." The shopkeeper thrust the package in Guren's extended arms.

"How much do I owe you?"

The shopkeeper's eyes shifted back to the coin, still clenched in Guren's sweaty palm. "Just a few silver coins. Not that much."

Guren flicked the coin in the man's direction.

"Then maybe I could buy some silence too."

The shopkeeper winked and tucked the coin in a chest pocket. "Pleasure doing business with ya, pig boy."

Guren nodded and slipped out of the shop, careful to skirt around the looming guards.

 _Now it's finally time to wash all this damn mud off._

* * *

Once he had the uniform, he felt that slipping into the castle unnoticed would be easy. Guren combed through his damp hair with freshly scrubbed fingers as he maneuvered around the steady stream of arriving nobility. With the barely controlled pandemonium taking up most of the guards' attention, he could have bypassed the servant disguise, but it didn't hurt to be cautious.

Guren's tense fingers twitched as he navigated through crowds of workers deeper in the courtyard. Every so often, his fingertips would brush against the cold, reassuring steel slipped into his hidden pockets. If his identify were to be discovered, he would at least have a chance at escaping. He expected to feel the harsh yank of a guard tugging on his collar, but he passed through the front entrance undeterred.

Instead of followed the crowd of servants, Guren veered off towards a different entrance. He moved quickly, striding down the darkened corridor while checking over his shoulder each time he rounded a corner. The few servants he passed were too consumed by their own missions to pay him much attention.

 _If I were the royal heir, where would they stick me?_

Guren swallowed thickly, recognizing familiar tapestries and mounted candelabras. He didn't have to guess where the crown prince would be living; after all, it had been Guren's room once upon a time ago. He only paused for a second when his involuntary reminiscing brought him to a standstill. He shook his head and gritted his teeth, forcing his attention to return to the mission at hand.

 _I can't afford to be distracted by dangerous memories. It'll make things…messy._

"Hey! You!"

Guren stiffened at the voice behind him. He decided to pretend as if he hadn't heard the call.

"Wait!" Guren heard the soft pattering of shoes slapping the stone floor as the other raced to catch up with him. "Where are yo—"

He turned slowly, meeting the wide blue eyes of the crown prince.

 _Damn. I thought the voice sounded familiar._

"Oh! It _is_ you!" Shinya stepped back with a startled, open-mouthed smile. Judging from his expression, it seemed as if he was amused by the turn of the events.

 _That makes one of us then._

Guren crossed his arms and surveyed his target, scanning from his polished boots to his neatly combed hair. Shinya was wearing a richer outfit, decked out in silver fabrics that flattered his pale complexion and hair.

 _I was hoping that we would only have to meet once more. If anyone recognizes me, then the plan is ruined._

"My Lord…" Guren dipped his head, resisting the urge to groan. If he had bowed earlier, Shinya might not have recognized his freshly cleaned face.

 _Then again,_ Guren considered Shinya's sharp gaze from their brief encounter, _maybe he would have._ He hated guessing games.

Guren watched Shinya's shined shoes as they circled him slowly.

"Hmm. I'm glad to see that the Crown's donation to the poor was not in vain. You look almost presentable now." There was a teasing nonchalance in Shinya's tone, which only made Guren's gut twist into tighter knots. Their banter was a useless waste of his limited time.

 _I can kill him now before the ceremony._ He flicked his lowered gaze to each side in search of any unfortunate witnesses. Although the corridor was currently abandoned, would it be empty long enough for Guren to kill the prince and flee before the body was found?

He _really_ hated guessing games.

Guren lifted his gaze to study the prince's wiry build, deceptively hidden underneath his excessive costume. Although Mahiru had not been generous when describing Shinya's strengths, Guren also wondered how much her evaluation left out.

 _After all, there has to be a reason that Tenri picked him from hundreds of other tavern orphans._

Guren's gaze passed over Shinya's comfortable grin and the loose hand planted on his hip.

 _Or maybe the crown prince truly is an innocent fool who bears no threat._

However, if his brutal training and experiences taught him anything, Guren couldn't rely on assumptions.

"Did you hear me?"

Guren blinked, his wide gaze darting back to Shinya's amused expression.

"Oh, uh, no. Sorry, my Lord."

Shinya laughed, the tinkling peals flooding the corridor. Guren suppressed a frustrated scowl at such an ostentatious sound.

 _He could attract half the damn castle by making so much noise._

Guren shifted to the other foot, wracking his brains for a polite excuse to escape. It was too risky to attempt an assassination now; the sounds of trumpets warned Guren of approaching guards.

"I was saying that this is the second time that we've crossed paths. First my carriage hits you and then you end up in the castle? Fate has to have intervened!"

Guren smiled wryly. _If you believe in that sort of thing._ He had a feeling if he explained his true purpose for following the prince, Shinya wouldn't be wearing such a ridiculous expression anymore.

"Or maybe," Shinya wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, "you can't stay away from royalty."

"Doubtful."

Despite himself, Guren scoffed and rolled his eyes, only belatedly realizing that his impertinence could be punished if Shinya so desired.

Instead of growing angry, Shinya's grin stretched wider. He opened his mouth to respond, but an echoing voice down the hallway caught his attention.

"Niiiii-saaaaan!"

A young girl skipped towards him, her unrestrained ashen hair flying around her head. She skidded to a stop and tucked her hands behind her back as she studied Guren's face.

"Hello, Shinoa-chan!" Shinya's silly grin remained plastered across his face, playing the fool just as Mahiru described.

 _Speaking of Mahiru, this girl looks exactly like her. A sister perhaps?_

Guren absorbed the young girl's light hair and glinting eyes, so characteristic of a Hiiragi. There were many, _many_ things that he had missed while hiding his tiny, reclusive corner.

 _They're breeding like rabbits. She has to be younger than ten then, otherwise I would have remembered a new infant. Hopefully she's still young enough to be safe from the Hiiragi's political games._ Guren very much doubted it though.

Having deemed Guren a low priority, Shinoa swung her sharp gaze back to Shinya.

"You're going to be late," she reminded him with a singsong inflection to her voice.

For the first time since Shinya had tracked him down in the hallway, Guren caught a flicker of a shadow across the crown prince's features.

"Ah, yes. The ceremony." Shinya's fingers strayed subconsciously to his collar and he tugged on the scratchy fabric.

 _Interesting._

Guren glanced back to Shinoa, unable to stop himself from staring at Mahiru's lookalike. Her bright eyes were fixed again on him, causing the hairs on the back of his neck to prickle.

 _She certainly is Mahiru's sister. Either she doesn't trust me…or all Hiiragis share the same shifty look. She doesn't know…does she?_

 _How could she?_

Shinoa reached forward and snagged Shinya's hand, tugging him closer to her. She narrowed her eyes at Guren before towing her foster brother down the hallway. Shinya laughed before following her; the darkness along his brow disappeared.

"Welcome to the castle, pig boy!" he called over his shoulder, shooting a grin in Guren's direction. "Maybe we'll cross paths again!"

Guren shook his head and sighed. He couldn't wait until he was finally free from that damn nickname and the lunatic Hiiragis.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading! See you in two months!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

 **Author's Note:** I apologize for the delay in getting this chapter out. I hope you enjoy! The action will really pick up next chapter!

* * *

As soon as they were out of eyeshot, Shinoa dropped Shinya's hand. He watched her skip a few feet ahead, her curious eyes roaming over the portraits of her sullen faced ancestors. Occasionally Shinya would peek at them too, though today he avoided their harsh gaze. He could do without the criticism from his dead predecessors, especially when they shared no blood.

Shinya focused on Shinoa's shoulders, steadily rising and falling with each hop and skip.

 _She seems to be in a good mood today. I can't remember the last time she held my hand._

He considered how quickly she had dropped it, right when they had left the new servant.

 _Maybe it was all for appearances. The doting little sister helping her distracted big brother on his special day._ Shinya suppressed a rueful snort. _I shouldn't overthink it. Who knows what's going on in her head._

Shinoa had been humming something under her breath for most of their trip, but as they rounded another corner, her soft hums grew louder. Shinya smiled at her song, wondering where she picked it up from. He couldn't quite make out the tune, but she seemed rather invested in the music.

"Nii-san," Shinoa stopped in the hallway, glancing over her shoulder at him.

"Hmm? Yes, Shinoa-chan?"

"Will you become king today?"

Shinya frowned at her strange question. "What? No, you know that isn't what today is. They're naming me, uh, the crown prince."

Shinoa's face wrinkled in confusion. "But Mahiru said you already were _that_. She told me that you've been the heir for years!"

 _Huh. How strange. I never knew Mahiru had so much faith in me. Her—er, I mean,_ our _father announced his decision a few weeks ago._

"No one could have known for sure until it was announced. Being the heir presumptive doesn't mean much—just that the king would like me to take his place next."

"So you'll become king when Father dies?"

"Uh, perhaps? And let's hope that doesn't happen for many years."

 _For_ all _of our sakes._

"Besides," Shinya continued, "a lot of different things could happen in the next twenty years. The king could name someone else as heir instead, so it's hard to say whe—"

"Something could happen to you."

Shinya felt moisture bead along the edge of his hairline. He wasn't sure if the sweat was from their conversation or the heat trapped within his thick, scratchy overcoat.

"Ye-es," he began slowly, studying her unreadable expression for a meaning behind her words. "Something could happen to me…"

"And then Kureto-nii-san or Mahiru could be the ruler!"

Despite the uneasy twist in his gut, Shinya kept his careful smile plastered across his lips. "Or you too, if you ever grow up." He waved his hand in a horizontal slash over her ashen hair.

Instead of pouting at the joke aimed towards her short stature, Shinoa shook her head and resumed walking.

"Hopefully not! Running a country sounds so boring. I'm glad I'm too young to be involved in all of this stuff."

 _Good. So she isn't planning to murder me in my sleep or something melodramatic like that._ Shinya's tense shoulders relaxed and his strained smile softened. "Yeah, it does sound pretty boring, doesn't it?"

"Mmmhmm. I don't _ever_ want to be the ruler, because then I would have to do so much work for everyone else and nothing for me," Shinoa complained. Her face screwed up into a disgusted pucker.

 _I know what you mean. I think Kureto and Mahiru would enjoy that power much more than me._ Shinya rubbed the back of his neck. He had his theories as to why _he_ was the designated heir, but he didn't dare ask the king to explain his reasoning.

With the discussion on that topic exhausted, Shinoa returned to her song. They resumed walking and Shinya watched her out of the corner of his eye.

"What are you humming? I don't recognize that tune."

"Hmm? Oh! It's something I'm making up!" Shinoa grinned, her bright eyes crinkling mischievously. "Do you want to hear it?"

Shinya returned the smile, grateful to have moved past the previous subject. "I would love to!"

Shinoa took a steadying breath, as if she were performing in front of hundreds instead of just Shinya.

"Kingslayer, Kingslayer, free us soon," Shinoa began in a lilting tone. "Come by the light of the next full moon."

Shinya froze mid-step, his foot hovering briefly before it fell back to the ground.

"W-what did you say?"

"Do you like it?" Shinoa's grin widened. "I'm not finished yet, but maybe it can be the next ballad that the minstrels sing!"

"It's nice, but do you—uh—do you even know what a kingslayer _does_?"

Shinoa rolled her eyes, as if Shinya had asked the dumbest question. He supposed he had; the name was a bit self-evident.

"It's someone who _slays_ the _king_ , right?"

"Well, yes." Shinya swallowed, forcing his pounding heart to steady. "I suppose so."

 _Maybe it's something she made up. Maybe it doesn't even mean anything after all._

He knew how smart she was—the lyrics meant something.

 _That's twice now that she's mentioned something like…_ that. _It can't hurt to be cautious._

He trailed after her, keeping an even sharper eye on her little mannerisms. "So, what inspired you to write a song about a kingslayer?"

"Uhh…." Shinoa paused, scratching her cheek and glancing to the side. "Last week I snuck into Mahiru's room and saw a letter on her desk that talked about a kingslayer and the moon."

"Is that all the letter said?"

"I think so, but she wasn't finished writing yet. I didn't ask her about it, since I wasn't supposed to be in her room," Shinoa added, squirming guiltily. She tilted her head, considering Shinya before breaking into a wide smile.

"Don't worry, Nii-san. You aren't the king yet, remember?"

"No, you're right. There isn't anything to worry about."

Shinya offered a weak chuckle, his eyes drifting towards the nearest window. Rising from the edge of the horizon was the dull glow of a full moon.

 _If Mahiru really did send that letter, there might not be much time._

He appreciated Shinoa's warning, intentional or not.

* * *

"Oi! You there!"

Guren turned his head, suppressing another frustrated sigh. He tired of constantly being shouted at. He had intended to sneak to Shinya's room and lie in wait until the crown prince returned from the declaration ceremony, but another servant managed to intercept him on the way.

"Yes?"

"You must be new, 'cause everyone here knows that it's against the rules to be snoopin' around the royal family's rooms."

Guren's eyebrow lifted in surprise. "Really? How do they eat then?"

The older man tried to swipe at Guren's ear, but he had to redirect his fist last minute to balance the load of boxes stacked in his arms.

"Surprised they hired an idiot like you. _We_ aren't allowed to go there. They have special servants with special uniforms who deal with those rooms."

Guren pursed his lips, displeased with this new fact. The Hiiragi's paranoia certainly made his job harder, especially if his newest disguise would inadvertently make him stick out more.

"Well, come on!" The servant wrinkled his nose at Guren and nodded towards the main entrance. "They need plenty of hands unloadin' all the grub for the banquet afterwards." He winked at Guren, the corners of his hair-rimmed lips rising in a conspiratorial smirk. "That's your best chance for gettin' a look at the Lady Mahiru anyhow."

 _That's the_ last _thing I want right now._

Taking Guren's silence for obedience, the servant spun around and began his march towards the main hall. Guren trailed after him after another internal debate, weighing the servant's dead body against being caught at the banquet later.

Unwilling to risk his cover for a pointless death, Guren trailed after the other servant, keeping his head low to the ground. Within moments, the still silence of the abandoned corridors was replaced by the loud din of a large room filled with excited people. Guren milled through the crowds of celebrating noblemen and merchants, effectively losing sight of the older servant. He moved around cackling ladies and snorting traders, catching mismatched fragments of many different conversations, all revolving around the Hiiragi royal family.

 _"Do you think I really care about some teenage brat? I'm just here for the food—"_

 _"—doubt the crown prince will be as firm as his father—"_

 _"—why not Lord Kureto instead—"_

 _"—he and Lady Mahiru make a lovely pair—"_

After a while, listening to the patchwork gossip became too much of a strain on his concentration, so Guren tuned out the rumors and comments. He kept his eyes glued to the swirling feet around him as he navigated through the crowded dining hall. Once he broke free, he immediately retreated to a dark corner, untouched by guests.

 _Probably untouched by dust rags too, judging by the amount of spider webs,_ he grimaced, flinging a sticky, white strand off of his sleeve. He settled deeper into the corner, watching as the guests, hosts, and servants mingled with one another.

Long after his feet had fallen asleep, a loud, shrill bell rang through the hall, jerking Guren out of his roaming thoughts. Several members of the Hiiragi royal family stood upon steps by the main exit, staring across the sea of faces with various expressions.

Guren spotted Kureto first, the latter surveying his subjects like a butcher would survey his livestock before the slaughter. A prickle of apprehension ran down Guren's spine; he wasn't fond of the eldest Hiiragi and knew how dangerous he could be. _I thought he was leading troops against the neighboring kingdom. What's he doing here?_

Guren shook his head, dragging his gaze from the stern Kureto to the gleeful Shinoa, completely ignoring a drunken Seishirou. Stranded between them was Mahiru, smiling out at the crowd with a soft smile. Her shrewd gaze belied her otherwise mild expression as she scanned the crowd, no doubt searching for him.

Tenri Hiiragi stood to the front of his children, his guarded expression particularly difficult to read. He waited expectantly for the chatter to die down before presenting a wide smile to the crowd. Guren's frown tightened; he didn't know Tenri Hiiragi well, but he couldn't recall a time when the man smiled.

 _So. This is the real Hiiragi family._

"Welcome, my loyal subjects! We are pleased that you decided to join us on this momentous day."

He had a sort of gruff charisma that made Guren's stomach heave. Guren's glare rose to the glittering crown perched on the king's gray hair. The last time he had seen that crown, it had rolled off his grandfather's severed head and onto the blood soaked rug.

 _I wonder if the throne was still warm when he stole it from us._

Mahiru's scouring eyes finally met Guren's and she offered him a private wink.

 _She's pleased by this._ He reconsidered the Hiiragi family members, studying their carefully guarded emotions. _They're trying to hide it, but they all look happy about this._

Guren refocused on what the king was saying. He had gone off on another tangent about the bountiful harvest and Kureto's military successes, which Guren had dully tuned out in favor of scanning the crowd again. They were moving in unison towards the dining hall's large exit, following the royal family who had disappeared through the doors.

 _It must be time for the ceremony._

"You're looking _clean_ today. I had almost forgotten how soft your hair was."

Guren glanced to the side and sighed, subconsciously running a hand through said hair.

"You probably shouldn't be seen with your assassin-for-hire, especially when I'm about to do my job."

"You're the one who's overly confident. Dressing up in a stolen servant's uniform and infiltrating your former home? If anyone saw us, you would be dead before I could cry 'traitor.'"

Mahiru smiled at him, the pleasant expression brightening her face. As much as Guren wanted to deny it, she looked beautiful in her crimson gown. He hated the satisfied glint in her eyes as his cheeks brightened, but he could hardly control himself.

Although she could still hold genuine feelings for him—feelings that he did not want to be involved with, thank you very much—Guren had to be wary of being manipulated both politically and personally. He didn't know how much of this was a game to her and how much was genuine.

"This will probably be the last time I see you, uh…" Guren paused, trying to find the right words.

"Don't say what you're about to say." Mahiru frowned, drawing her plump lips into a pucker. "We've been separated for ten years; you aren't going to run off after we've been reunited for only two days."

Guren shot her an exasperated look, but refused to comment.

 _I'll be running for my life. It would be suicidal for me to stay any longer._

"Besides, I'll have everything taken care of. There's no need to worry."

 _Then why the hell call me in the first place?_

She gave him another mysterious smile before darting towards the entrance to the Great Hall. He waited a moment longer for the rest of the crowd to drain through the heavy wooden doors before slipping inside.

* * *

Releasing an annoyed huff, Shinya scowled at his pale reflection in the darkened window. The glass distorted his features, causing his wide eyes to appear grotesquely disproportionate. If he were to be honest with himself, he didn't look much different from the doe-eyed quarry his brothers chased during their last hunt.

 _Some Hiiragi I am. Seishirou would love to see me now, practically quaking in my boots like a woodland fawn._

He turned away from his reflection and focused on the tiny procession in front of him. Within minutes, his transformation from street urchin to crown prince would be complete.

 _It's still so weird,_ he mused, scratching at the thick lace looped around his wrists. Part of him was excited—downright thrilled, really—for the looming transformation. After all, he would someday be the person every gutter orphan dreamed of being _._ However, another part of him still couldn't bury the jaded suspicion that the streets had beaten into him.

 _I have no business being king._ He frowned, picking at the intricate embroidery across his chest. _If "Father" knew so early on that I was to be the heir, then why didn't he prepare me better? The things I'm learning now—I could have started lessons years ago._

 _Perhaps this is all a dream. I'll wake up and—_ He broke off, unwilling to dwell on cruel illusions.

Although ten years had passed from when the king pulled him from the tavern's waste trench, Shinya still could feel the coarse texture of his makeshift husk pile even when he was drowning in his silken sheets. As much as he scoured this skin with scented soap until his flesh glowed raw, he felt like he could never wash the dirt and blood away.

 _I'll wake up and hear the innkeeper's wife feeding the pigs next door._

(He was certain the woman's shrill voice would have broken through his dreams, if it were a fantasy. It wasn't the soundest proof, but it was a bit comforting.)

The curtains fluttered from a draft caused by impatient feet of the others preparing to move. Shinya shoved the conflicting thoughts from his mind. At the current moment, there really wasn't much he could do.

 _Funny. I'll be the most powerful man in the kingdom, yet I have no say in determining my own fate._

"Are you ready?"

Shinya stiffened at Kureto's voice in his ear. He hadn't even heard his foster brother approach.

"Uh, yes, Nii-san. Thank you for agreeing to escort me."

He turned his head slightly, catching Kureto out of the corner of his eye. His stern expression and sharp eyes always managed to unnerve Shinya.

 _Why isn't Kureto being named the heir? He's older and most experienced than I am. Besides—he's an actual Hiiragi._ Shinya's lips pressed into a thin line as he considered his foster brother. _If I were him, I would probably be furious to have my birthright stolen by some tavern brat._

"Are you angry at Father?" The words left his mouth before he could pull them back. _Great. Now I'll have even_ more _political enemies._

His sharp eyebrow lifted upwards at Shinya's blurted question.

"For not choosing you, I mean," Shinya clarified. _Might as well dig the grave a little deeper._

Kureto offered a humorless smile and a polite half-bow. "I follow what our king commands, no matter my personal investment."

 _Blind loyalty like that doesn't exist. At least, not for any of us._

Shinya watched as Kureto's head dipped down, shadows briefly hiding his expression. Another shudder threatened to wrack Shinya's frame, but he suppressed it before Kureto rose back to attention.

"Surely my father must have a reason," he continued, pinning Shinya with his glinting eyes.

Shinya forced a smile. "Surely," he echoed, his voice sounding far more enthusiastic than he felt. "The king knows what's best."

Kureto's subtle reference to their lack of shared blood wasn't lost on Shinya. He tucked it away in a dark corner of his mind along with Shinoa's eerie song about kingslayers.

Still feeling Kureto's unrelenting stare drilling into the side of his head, Shinya turned towards the silken cloth that separated his procession from the Great Hall. The music began and he took a deep breath before pushing through the curtain.

* * *

As soon as Guren managed to press himself into another hidden alcove, the ceremony began. With a deafening blare from the trumpets, the crown prince appeared from behind a curtain. Although people surrounded him in a glittering, shining entourage, Guren kept his gaze focused on Shinya. He followed the small procession as it wound around the front of the hall and stopped in the center of the room.

King Tenri, perched comfortably on the throne, smiled amidst a backdrop of crimson and ebony tapestries. He slowly pulled himself out of the chair and sauntered towards his foster son. Shinya dropped to one knee, keeping his blank azure gaze fixed on a point in the crowd.

The king began speaking, but Guren could hardly make sense of his speech. The hall's reverberating echo distorted his words, creating an ominous rumble throughout the cavernous chamber. Guren used to think it was funny when his grandfather's words were jumbled by the echo. He didn't feel like laughing anymore.

Several more richly dressed nobles stood up to speak. Guren squinted at their unfamiliar faces, recognizing no one from his days in the castle.

 _Tenri Hiiragi must have removed all of those loyal to my grandfather._ He frowned, ghostlike images of the Ichinose allies haunting him. He didn't expect the usurper to be kind enough to send the former advisers to an early retirement at a pig farm in the country.

After a few more dramatic, sweeping speeches, the king resumed speaking. Guren's gaze shifted back to Shinya, still kneeling on the steps. His distant gaze had yet to shift from its original direction.

 _Maybe he's sleeping with his eyes open. This is even more pointless than I thought it would be._

Guren's bored stare roamed over the king and returned to Mahiru. Although her bland expression had returned, he noticed her clenched fists by her side. She peeked at Guren and her pressed lips flickered into a catlike smile.

 _How does she keep finding me?_ Guren hated the tight fluttering in his gut. _It's going to end up causing trouble for m—shit!_ Guren ducked his head, cursing his lapse in attention.

He had been so busy watching Mahiru that he had temporarily forgotten about the greatest threat to his plan. Earlier during the ceremony, Kureto had retreated from the crown prince's side to stand beside his sister. In a fateful second, his dark gaze had left Shinya in favor of following Mahiru's stare, eventually landing on a scowling Guren.

 _He shouldn't be able to tell it's me. Still, I should get out of here now._

Guren turned to slink back into the shadows, but hesitated as an awed hush blanketed the crowd. He paused mid-step, unable to break from the trance. The mood in the room sharply shifted as another man stepped forward. Upon the crimson pillow, gripped firmly in his white knuckled hands, rested a thin, silver circlet. Uttering a few more words, Tenri lifted the circlet from the pillow and placed it on Shinya's head. It slid down his silky hair, resting only a few inches above his downcast eyes.

"Crown Prince Shinya, heir to the Hiiragi throne—you may rise."

Shinya rose to a standing position, tilting his chin up to face the audience. He flashed a humble smile, causing the crowd to roar with applause. Guren rolled his eyes before slipping back through the alcove and out of the hall.

 _They do love their pretty things. Now… To find his ro—_ Guren froze as he rounded the corner. A figure leaned again the wall, his slender arms crossed in front of his chest. Light from a nearby torch caused the golden crest on his jacket to gleam.

 _Kureto._

Knowing it would be too suspicious to flee, Guren maintained a slow pace, keeping his head lowered.

 _If he recognizes me, I'll be dead before sunrise._

Guren fixed his eyes to the ground, counting the number of steps until he would pass Kureto. In his periphery, he watched as Kureto's shiny boots appeared and slowly disappeared.

 _Only a few more ste—_

"Servant."

 _Damn._

Guren hesitated before stopping completely. His hands fell to his side, hovering over the hidden blades. _Just in case,_ though he knew the chances of escaping were slim.

"Yes, my Lord?" he murmured.

The footsteps drew closer and Guren's gaze flicked upwards, meeting Kureto's unreadable expression.

"There must be some pressing reason for you to leave my brother's banquet so early."

Guren remained silent as he struggled to come up with a plausible excuse. Kureto surveyed Guren appraisingly like a hunter buying a hound. It was a strange, chilling sensation.

"No matter," Kureto continued with a smile. Guren's stomach twisted at the unnaturally cheery expression.

 _Clearly Eyebrows isn't in the business of smiling much, because he looks terrifying. I'm pretty sure that's the opposite effect of what he wants._

"Perhaps you can prepare dinner for the crown prince. His usual servants will be… _preoccupied_ by the banquet. His room is right around the corner," he added, gesturing towards Shinya's room. "I trust you know where it is."

Guren certainly did; it had been his room for six years. Judging by Kureto's smug expression as he scanned Guren's stolen uniform, he had made the connection as well.

"Yes, my Lord."

Guren turned to go, but halted at the sound of Kureto clearing his throat.

"Oh, and boy?" Guren froze, eyeing Kureto warily.

"You may want to fix your uniform. I doubt my brother will notice, but a true Hiiragi certainly would." Kureto gestured towards the crest on Guren's chest before brushing past him. "It's a rather poor imitation."

 _I doubt he means the uniform._

"I hope you complete your task," Kureto called over his shoulder, flashing Guren an icy smile. He disappeared around the corner, returning to the banquet.

 _And I don't think he means serving dinner either._

Guren waited for Kureto's echoing footsteps to fade before heading towards Shinya's room. Deep down, he felt sorry for the crown prince, but not enough to deter his mission.

 _Surely he knows he's sleeping with wolves. He can't be that oblivious, can he?_

* * *

 **Thanks for reading!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer** I own nothing. Not a thing.

 **Author's Note:** Sorry for the delay! Finally we're getting into the action here!

* * *

When he heard multiple pairs of footsteps outside, Guren froze and moved away from the door. He pressed himself into the corner nearest the window, just in case Kureto had grown a conscience since their last encounter. He could hear Prince Shinya's muffled voice on the other side of the door and the handle hitched as someone fumbled with the lock mechanism. Guren crouched lower, prepared to attack if any complications escorted the crown prince into the room.

However, he need not have worried. In a fluid motion, Shinya slipped into the room and slapped the door quickly behind him. He slid the lock and pressed his back against the polished wood, releasing an exhausted sigh. His embroidered collar was rumpled and the silver circlet sat crookedly on his head. He nodded his head towards the ground, swaying on his feet with closed eyes.

 _He looks half dead already. If all goes well, it shouldn't take much more to finish the job._ Despite the looming task at hand, Guren couldn't suppress the upwards quirk of his lips.

"I never realized being royal was so taxing."

Shinya's eyes darted towards Guren, gaze dulled momentarily by confusion. Guren's gut clenched reflexively, anticipating the inevitable call for help. However, with a slow blink, Shinya's wide grin replaced the wary expression and he seemed at ease with Guren's unexplained visit. Guren settled back down on the balls of his feet—relaxed, but still ready to move if necessary.

 _That was close. I'm lucky he didn't panic._

"Ehh? You again? I never realized you had such experiences with royalty," Shinya countered, his eyes crinkling. "I assumed your only claim to fame was being hit by my carriage. Your leg seems much better, by the way."

Guren bit the inside of his lip, wracking his brain to remember which limb he had "injured" in case Shinya prodded further. Perhaps he was being paranoid, but he couldn't brush off the asinine comment if Shinya was testing him. Guren preferred when his quarry was blithely unaware—not cunning or cautious.

(Perhaps he had been wise to ignore Mahiru's unimpressed scoffs in favor of his gut instinct. Underestimation led to underperformance.)

"Is that so?"

"I hardly noticed a limp earlier today. Seishirou would be _so_ disappointed if he knew you weren't horribly maimed. Gutter hunting is his favorite hobby." He hummed under his breath before crossing towards a wooden chest, fingers already tracing around the buttons lining his collar. A nearby candelabra threw dark shadows along the curve of his neck. When Shinya turned his back, Guren eyed the exposed skin, smooth and unblemished like marble. If Mahiru hadn't told him Shinya's story earlier, he never would have guessed that the crown prince had grown up in a tavern alleyway.

"Lord Shinya—" Guren interrupted, gesturing towards the table. "Surely you must be famished. Please eat before the food grows cold."

Shinya paused, an eager smile flickering over his lips. "That _does_ sound good." He sauntered towards the table, eyeing the various pieces of assembled meats and breads. "They were trying to starve me during my own banquet." His hand brushed against his tilted crown as he tried to push it back in place.

"Hmm?"

Shinya dropped his hand and shifted his gaze back towards the food. "Yeah, Nii-san hovered over me like a hawk. Every time I had a free chance to eat, he would introduce me to prominent families. Ugh, it was more like a kennel of pretentious lapdogs. I practically spent the whole night scratching behind their ears," he complained.

"Still, they're lapdogs that provide the Crown with financial and military support," Guren reminded him. He struggled to keep the amused smile off his lips. He had a feeling Shinya was being intentionally improper to spite Guren's attempt at seriousness.

 _Bastard._

Shinya rolled his eyes. "As if I won't have the rest of my life to hear their yaps."

"Of course, my Lord. It's just—" _Would you shut the hell up before you blow your cover? "_ One must be mindful of allies to the throne."

"Ha! I can't believe I'm being advised on court etiquette by—" A thought visibly struck Shinya, wiping his expression like a slate.

 _That can't be good._

"That reminds me…" Shinya kept his gaze lowered as he picked at a stray piece of bread. "I'm surprised you were the one who served my meal. Usually senior servants of the Hiiragi household are in charge of dining. Strange, since you've only been here for a day."

"I was reassigned to serve you due to the demand caused by the banquet."

"By who?"

 _Damn._

There was only a handful of people in the castle capable of supplying Guren with that order and three of them desired a dead crown prince.

"Lord Kureto," Guren responded, gambling on the lesser of the three evils. Judging by the tightening of the corners of Shinya's eyes, he had picked the wrong name. Shinya inspected the bread before tearing a chunk off and tossing it back on the table. He brushed his fingers, almost as if casting off spider webs.

"How kind of Nii-san, eager to feed me when I had so little to eat during the banquet. I should thank him for sending you. What did you say your name was again?"

Guren met his stare with pressed lips. "I didn't."

Keeping his eyes fixed on Guren, Shinya shifted around the table. Guren moved in tandem, keeping the same distance between them.

"My door was locked before I entered. How were you able to get inside?"

 _It had been my door long before it became yours._ Guren supposed mentioning the lock's secret weakness wouldn't help his case either.

 _Never mind about playing along. He knows something's up. Time to end it._

"Perhaps you would like something to drink? You look pale, my Lord." Guren nodded towards the wine cup, filled to the brim with a deep crimson.

Shinya leaned back, a darkly humorous expression spreading across his face.

"No thanks. I'm not in the mood for poison tonight." His hand hovered over the carving knife, set neatly amongst the cutlery. Guren took a step forward and Shinya swiped the blade before retreating closer to the door. He held it out in front of him, daring Guren to step any closer.

 _(One… Two…)_

"My Lord? Is something wrong?"

"I'm not sure why Kureto sent _you_ , but if you don't drink to the last drop, I'll call the guards."

"You must be exhausted from the ba—"

 _"Do it."_

"As you wish, my Lord."

Guren pinched the gilded cup stem between his fingers before tipping the wine back. As much as he hated dulling his senses during a dangerous mission, he rather enjoyed Shinya's startled expression as he swallowed.

 _Did he not expect me to drink? He_ did _order me to do it, after all._

 _(Eight… Nine…Ten…)_

"You're either the worst damn assassin or you're very dedicated to your job."

He set the empty goblet down, offering Shinya raised eyebrows. "The poison wasn't in the wine, my Lord."

Shinya's eyes widened, horrified, as he realized the meaning behind Guren's words.

 _(Fourteen… Fifteen._ )

Shinya's lips parted, but his brow wrinkled, as if he couldn't process the right words. His eyelids fluttered as his gaze shifted back to the blade in his clenched hand.

" _Tch! Idiot!"_ Shinya hissed, more to himself than at Guren. He had ignored the sharp tingle along his palm, believing the source to be nerves rather than a concentrated sedative. Shinya pried the knife out of his hand and it fell to the table with a loud clatter, but the damage had already been done.

Although he maintained his stony expression, Guren felt the knots in his stomach loosen. Slathering the knife with the poison had been a gamble, only salvageable if Shinya had the desire to fight with the intelligence to spot Guren's deception.

Shinya doubled over, taking in a deep breath to fight the rising darkness. He repeatedly wiped his tainted hand against his jacket in vain. The poison was taking its toll, but Shinya continued to struggle against it.

 _He might not be as strong as Mahiru, but he isn't as weak as she implied._ He considered the calculated emotions and the cheery mask. _He could have been dangerous._

Guren pursed his lips. He thought back to Mahiru's suggestions. If had chosen to listen to her instead of following his gut, he would have been the one who ended up being poisoned. This was the third time she had nudged him into a risky situation with little consideration for his safety.

 _That reminds me. I have a few questions to ask her about this…situation._

He tilted his head as he met Shinya's blurry glare. He had given up trying to wipe the poison off his fingers; instead, he seemed to be intent on remaining upright with white knuckles gripped around the edge of the table.

 _Maybe I should have upped the dosage,_ Guren mused, shifting his weight to the other foot. His impatience was tinged with worry; the crown prince only had to cry out and guards would be at his throat.

However, apart from Shinya's initial outburst after being tricked, he had remained silent, presumably to conserve his energy. _That's not how I expected him to act. Was this the right decision?_

"So…why does…Kureto want…me dead…?" Each word came out slurred and labored.

Guren tilted his head to the side. "Kureto? He didn't hire me." His eyes slid over Shinya's hunched shoulders and landed on the door. He swore he had heard a lock tumbler click.

Preoccupied with their conversation, Shinya kept his diminishing focus on Guren. "Wha…? Who…then?"

"Me."

Shinya went rigid at sound of the chilling voice, creeping forth like the first frost of winter. If Guren had to guess, he would say Shinya looked more startled by a single word than the entire poisoning incident.

 _Not particularly surprised._ She _would scare me more than death too._

"Mah—" Shinya barely managed to turn his head before Mahiru's wiry fingers wrapped around his neck like an iron trap. He inhaled sharply before her fingers closed even tighter, causing his skin to pucker and redden from the pressure. His back arched as he tried to knock her away, but he was already too dizzy from the poison. He settled for affronted spitting, hardly appropriate for the heir presumptive.

 _"Agh!_ Wha—uagh—what—"

Guren crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. He wasn't particularly surprised to see Mahiru; she always was the kind to involve herself in everything. _Hell, I was even expecting her to show up._

Still, the perverse pleasure she was gaining by strangling her foster brother and fiancé was a bit unsettling, especially when Guren considered how badly he once wanted to fill the latter role.

Now, he wasn't sure why he desired it in the first place.

Shinya gasped thirstily, prying with little success at her relentless grip. Hindered by the lingering effects of the poison, he wouldn't last much longer. He gave one more desperate wriggle, clawing at the prominent veins running along the base of Mahiru's knuckles. When Shinya's hands flopped weakly to his side, Guren noticed tiny rivulets of red running down Mahiru's wrist.

Mahiru released her grip around Shinya's neck the moment he became unresponsive. He toppled to the floor, his silver circlet rolling away and landing with a metallic _clatter_ by Mahiru's shoe. She prodded his motionless form before bending down to pick up the circlet, admiring it like a spoiled child.

"Mahiru."

"Hmm?"

"I thought you hired _me_ to take care of the crown prince." Guren kept his voice low. She had entered without closing the door behind her; any passing servants or guards could spell doom for them all. _Unless, of course, Shinya dies and I'm blamed as the sole assassin._

"Oh?" Mahiru straightened up, blinking owlishly at Guren.

"What was the point of dragging me back _here_ if you wanted to do the job yourself? I don't appreciate risking my neck for nothing."

Mahiru frowned, twisting the circlet absently around her fingers. "We're going to do this together, Guren. Just like when we were kids, we're going to be together again."

"You didn't really need me to come kill the crown prince though, did you? You were going to do it with or without me. So much for together," he scoffed.

She took a small step forward, navigating around Shinya's huddled body. "Guren," she breathed, reaching out for him. When she grasped his hand, he could feel the icy coolness from the stolen circlet and the faint twitching of her palm.

"I couldn't have done it without you, Guren!" Mahiru insisted, tugging on his arm with a pleading expression. "You were the Kingslayer, destined to free us from him."

Guren's lips pressed together in a firm slash. _Yes, that. I had been meaning to ask about_ that _._

"You're still going on about that Kingslayer shit? Don't tell me you actually _believe_ the prophet's story."

Mahiru answered his question with one of her own. "Do I have to believe in a prophecy for it to come true?"

"When you're the one pulling the strings, I'd say you qualify as a believer. I doubt a sceptic would go through this much trouble to stage a routine assassin."

"And yet here you are, standing next to me."

"I'm not _the_ Kingslayer. If anything, _you_ are."

Her lips drooped into a disappointed frown; she decided to be relentless until Guren finally admitted the truth.

"Your grandfather was the first king in over a century to be murdered in cold blood. It all because of you—you're the only one alive who could claim the title of Kingslayer."

Guren scowled, but he didn't object. Tenri Hiiragi had swung the blade, but Guren had committed a far greater crime. He couldn't refute the infamous title on a clear conscience.

"That's why you have to kill Shinya right now."

"Because the prophecy says so?"

"Because I want you to," Mahiru countered, her blazing gaze boring into Guren's. "So we can be together."

 _Ahh… I thought that was the case._

His shoulders slumped as he digested her words. She was not bound by her father's fear of impending vengeance against the Hiiragi clan. For all her prophecy prodding, she could care less about Kingslayers and dead heirs as long as she got what she wanted in the end. Her father's adoption of Shinya had been nothing more than a hindrance—a hindrance she decided to correct herself when a fabled assassin didn't appear.

 _What does she expect? That if I killed the crown prince, then the Hiiragis would be_ indebted _to me for cleansing their line?_ The words sounded disgusting in his mind. _Tenri won't let me waltz back to the palace with a pardon. If anything, it would give him the motive he wants to start a war with those sympathetic to the Ichinose clan._

 _If the crown prince dies, a lot of innocent people will follow._ He eyed Mahiru, cold and emotionless as she picked at her nails.

 _No, she doesn't care about what happens, as long as she gets her way._ Guren wondered if that meant he had outgrown her or if she had outpaced him.

Mahiru leaned forward, her eager stare pinning Guren. "Aren't you going to kill him? Become the Kingslayer again!"

Guren's gaze dropped to Shinya's motionless form. He hadn't moved since Mahiru dropped him; perhaps he was already dead.

"He's not much of a king right now. Maybe you could try again in a few years." His wry humor fell flat. Darkness thundered across Mahiru's face, but the rage wasn't directed towards Guren.

"Don't you see?" Mahiru seethed, kicking at Shinya's side with a swipe of her foot. "He was never _supposed_ to be king! Father only picked him because a halfwit prophet managed to rattle him when he claimed the crown. Since his arrival, the only thing he's managed to do is separate us and steal my throne!"

An eerily calm expression slipped over her face. It unnerved Guren more than her anger had.

"My father adopted Shinya as a scapegoat for the prophecy," she repeated. "He will do everything in his power to set Shinya up as a puppet heir to make sure it comes true. If it doesn't work, then we're stuck with an inexperienced outsider to rule." She tilted her head, a false sympathy twisting her features. "Think of all the damage he would do."

"It's kinder this way. Once he's gone, we'll be free to be together, Guren. Imagine all that power—imagine us sharing it! Ima—ah— _ima-_ " Mahiru trailed off with a confused expression, her brow wrinkled in concentration.

"Wha—" She broke off again, staring at her trembling hands as the circlet slipped through her fingers. Guren had watched the tremors progress from her pinky to her elbow, counting down the seconds in his head. She had been oblivious to them, consumed by her rage.

"Your description of the crown prince was rather inaccurate. He was far cleverer than you gave him credit for." Typically, Guren wouldn't compliment his target, but he supposed an exception could be made.

"It took a bit longer than I thought it would. The poison along his fingertips wasn't as concentrated, but he managed to get some of it in an open wound." Mahiru brought her shaking fist to eyelevel and scowled at the stinging wound. "It wouldn't be enough to stop you, but now that it's starting to take effect, you won't be as strong as usual. Still, it'll be enough to buy him some time."

Mahiru narrowed her eyes. "So you're going to save the only obstacle in our way? I didn't know you had such a soft spot for hopeless bastards."

 _It takes one to know one._

Guren shoved his hands in his pocket with a loose shrug. "No, I'm not going to save him either. I'm going to do what I should have done in the first place: mind my own damn business." He moved towards the door, but Mahiru caught his sleeve, sagging against his arm.

"Please, Guren…" she begged. He couldn't meet her gaze anymore, honeyed irises darkened by dilated pupils. "We have to get rid of him."

Guren stepped back, tugging his sleeve from her grasp. "Deal with it yourself. Though…if your prophecy is true and the Kingslayer is real, he can't kill someone who's already dead. Who do you think he'll come after instead?"

Although she had scorned her father's caution earlier, Mahiru recoiled at the implication. Without Shinya to serve as a scapegoat, she and her siblings would be prime targets for any vengeful assassins. She had enjoyed her safety in the shadows.

"If we don't kill him now, then you're putting me in danger!"

"You're more than capable of defending yourself."

"I might die!"

"…"

When she realized her pleas were falling on deaf ears, Mahiru dropped the act. "Damn the consequences if this'll let us be together," she murmured before fishing through a hidden pocket on her hip. Guren watched her impassively, determined to keep his promise to avoid meddling.

Mahiru spun towards Shinya, but stumbled with an ungainly trip as the poison dulled her muscles. With a curled lip and blazing eyes, she lifted the blade in the air, scattering light from the burning candles.

Then, in a brilliant burst of white flame, the tapestry exploded.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note:** Sorry for the delay! The chapters were already written, but I forgot to post them. The chapter's parts are a little out of chronological order, but they make sense in the end

* * *

Then, in a brilliant burst of white flame, the tapestry exploded.

There was a brief moment of stunned silence as Mahiru and Guren gawked at the blazing tapestry before either of them moved. The ropes tethering it to the wall snapped, sending it billowing towards the corner of Shinya's bed. It draped over the linens and spread quickly; the aged wooden bedposts began to crackle and crumble, flooding the room with thick smoke.

Mahiru reacted first, stumbling backwards with a gasp, dropping the knife in her haste to escape the growing flames. The blade fell, gorging the carpet by Shinya's turned cheek.

 _Shit!_

Guren's gaze dropped back to the crown prince, momentarily forgotten in the fiery pandemonium. On reflex, Guren tucked the back of his ankle into the hollow of Shinya's collarbone and tugged, dragging his motionless form backwards. Seconds later, the bed's canopy collapsed on itself, causing one of the smoldering bedposts to tumble and strike the floor where Shinya's head had previously been.

 _I thought I said I wasn't going to get involved anymore._ Guren scowled, growing increasingly frustrated at the escalating events.

"Guren? Guren!" Mahiru called, her voice thick with a suppressed cough. Guren could see her doubled over in the heavy smoke, arms wrapped around her stomach.

"Here," he grunted back, burying his face in the crook of his elbow to escape the stifling smoke.

"Can you get out?"

Guren's eyes ran along the fiery chaos, traveling over the blazing bed to the charred table. A barrier of flames cut him off from the door as effectively as any wall. The smoke was rising, darkening. If he squinted hard enough, he could see Mahiru's hazy outline and the shadowy frame of the door.

 _Damn. The smoke is getting thicker._

Instead of answering her, he decided to focus his energies and precious oxygen on escaping. _I could try to jump through the fire…_

It wasn't the most appealing option. Undoubtedly the fire had stirred a commotion in the castle and guards would be waiting at the door for him with open arms and an open noose. No, he would have a better chance surviving with a different exit strategy.

He just couldn't find one.

"Gu-ren…?" Mahiru sounded weaker, further away. "I can't help you…"

He ignored her as he scanned his surroundings.

"Guren," she coughed, her thin voice barely rising over the popping of burning wood. "Guren, can you get out?"

 _No._

Despite the dryness in his throat, Guren chuckled and ran a hand through his sweaty hair. "Looks like you'll get what you wanted. A dead crown prince and a murder scene without any evidence pointing back to you."

"Guren, please! Figure a way out! You can't die!"

His brow furrowed. _She actually seems desperate. Maybe this wasn't part of her plan._

 _Which only makes it worse that I'm going to die by an accident._

Mahiru's pleas turned into wheezes and her huddled silhouette in the smoke disappeared. He could hear her uneven steps fade down the hallway as she either ran for help or ran for her life.

Guren shook his head and turned to examine the burning mess that had once been his. He hadn't had time to look at his old things while preparing for the assassination, but now he had all the time in the world to dwell.

 _Rather, the time it takes for me to suffocate or burn to death—whichever comes first._

He pressed his lips together, not pleased with his amendment.

 _Damn. Shigure and Sayuri are going to be so pissed._

His eyes drifted towards the mounted paintings. They would be the next to burn, quickly. Guren imagined the oil paint and aged canvas hissing and curling in on itself.

 _Too bad._ Many of them had been hanging along the wall since the birth of Guren's grandparents. _I'm surprised Tenri Hiiragi let them stay._ He tilted his head as he studied one of his favorites, a dignified portrait of one of his ancestors that spanned from floor to ceiling.

 _I doubt they've been moved since we left._

Guren frowned, considering what he had said.

 _Since we left…_ he echoed, moving towards the portrait. With a quick mental apology and nothing to lose, Guren slipped the metal blade from his pocket and slashed across the figure's chest. Instead of cutting to the stone wall behind it, Guren's knife sunk deeper into air. He freed his hand and cut again, slicing through to a cool nothingness.

His lips flicked upwards in a wry smile. As a child, his grandfather had always told him stories about the castle's hidden tunnels, citing how his ancestors built them for protection.

 _I suppose it's no surprise that they guard the entrances too._

Despite the raging blaze around him, Guren was momentarily caught in a childlike trance. He had always been too intimidated by his ancestor's stern expression as a child to stray too close to the portrait, but now he was faintly grateful for the new threat that drove him to conquer that fear.

As the heat spread through the room, Guren's breath hitched in the muggy smoke. Although he wanted to finished cutting away the portrait, he moved quickly to the window and busted it open with a curtain-covered fist. Immediately, fresh air drove away the smoke and he took a few greedy gasps, grateful for a clear mind.

 _Now, to get the hell out of here._

After a few well-placed slashes, the oil painting fluttered to the ground, revealing the entrance to a cramped tunnel. Guren tentatively waved a hand through the cool darkness, brushing away cobwebs and clouds of dust. He crouched down, halfway in the tunnel, when a soft sound caught his ear.

 _Was that a…?_

Guren twisted himself around in the narrowing opening to frown at the crown prince, facedown where Guren had left him. He wasted precious time watching him, but a frustrating sense of integrity forced him to wait for another moment.

Shinya coughed again, his huddled body rocking with the action. Guren closed his eyes and breathed in the stale tunnel air before climbing back out.

 _Dammit! If only he stayed silent for another minute, I could have left with a clean conscience._

Knowing full and well how he was about to violate his earlier promise to _not get involved,_ Guren sighed and moved towards Shinya's side. He pressed two fingers to his bruised, warm throat and felt a sluggish pulse, dulled by Mahiru's deadly grip and Guren's poison.

 _It's partly my fault he can't escape on his own._ Guren tried to justify his next action before shaking his head.

 _Whatever. I'm already considered a traitor. Might as well make it official._

Guren hooked his hands under Shinya's armpits and hoisted him in the air. He grunted at the weight, surprised that Shinya weighed more than he expected. _Why the hell is he so heavy? What do they feed him?_ With another exasperated groan, he dragged Shinya slowly towards the escape tunnel.

After several seconds of panting and maneuvering, including several bashed heads (in Guren's defense, Shinya was already unconscious, so it couldn't have made things _too_ much worse), Guren managed to pull both of them in the tunnel as the nearby curtains burst into flames. Still feeling the residual heat of the blaze along his cheeks and the cloying thickness of smoke in his throat, Guren paused for a moment to catch his breath in the dank tunnel before pushing forward.

The tunnel was narrow and cold, a welcome respite from the inferno they had escaped from. Fortunately, the walls seemed dry and sturdy, but Guren didn't know where they led. For all he knew, the tunnel could lead to the soldier barracks.

 _Wherever it goes, it's better than burning to death._

Once he rounded the first corner, the warm glow from his burning room ceased to light the way. He cursed himself for not grabbing a lantern, but there was no way in hell he would go back for _more_ fire. He slowed his pace, keeping one hand brushing along the cool stone walls while the other arm kept Shinya anchored over his shoulder.

Frequently, Guren had to dissuade himself from dropping Shinya and running for his life. The imminent threat of burning to death was gone, but Guren worried about armed reinforcements storming the tunnel in search of the missing Hiiragi. With Shinya still serving as decorated deadweight, he had to move slowly.

 _He'd be fi-ine,_ Guren drawled, sparing another sour glare at Shinya's sagging head while he caught his breath. _This_ was not part of Mahiru's plan, he was sure of it.

 _I ought to leave him here. He can find his own way back._ Guren considered Mahiru's malicious glee as she strangled Shinya. _He'd be in danger again, but I bet he could figure a way out of it._

However, despite his grumbling and complaints, he kept trudging forth with the crown prince slung over his shoulder. Mahiru's words had given him something to consider.

* * *

The moon was still high in the night sky, but the castle was awake with frantic panicking. Guards marched down the hallway, patrolling the entrances to the other living quarters with a bleary concentration. Servants raced alongside them, lugging buckets and pitchers of water with quickly diminishing hope.

Kureto watched them scramble to salvage the smoldering remnants of his adopted brother's room, arms crossed and lips quirked upwards when no one was near. Their effort was pointless; based on the first few stories from witnesses (Mahiru's account being among them, which he intended to pursue further), the fire had been blazing for nearly an hour. There was no way anyone could have survived.

Ignoring a nearby servant's plea to stay back, Kureto stepped over the threshold and carefully navigated around the piles of soot. As expected, the room was destroyed apart from a few remnants of studier pieces of furniture, barely discernable through the cracked ash. He could see the indistinct outline of a fallen tabletop and a wardrobe amongst the carnage.

He scoured the blackened walls and the melted pieces of glass along the floor. _It must have been a hot fire to have done this much damage._ He glanced back to the melted glass, taking a small step towards the window. _Very hot indeed. Perhaps not an average fire._

A breeze caught his sleeve, tugging it towards the open window. Kureto frowned and glanced around the room, searching for the gust's origin. After another careful sweep of the walls, his eyes landed on a darker shadow, irregularly etched in the stone. He moved towards it casually so as to not attract any wandering eyes.

 _Interesting._

As he had thought, the "shadow" yielded an opening to a tunnel. Had the walls not been so burnt and charred, he would have noticed it sooner. He remembered the old stories of the Ichinose tunnels, mildly excited to have finally found one.

 _It's for the best that no one knows._

Kureto cleared his throat. Multiple heads snapped up at once. "The ashes," he stated bluntly, neither elaborating nor explaining what he wanted. However, the servants seemed to understand.

"My deepest apologies, Lord Kureto!"

"I'll get a glass of water!"

"Let me fetch you a cloth!"

"I'll find a fan!"

The room cleared immediately as the servants scrambled to serve him, giving Kureto the chance to shove the smoldering remnants of the dresser over the tunnel entrance. When he glanced up, Mahiru was watching him from the door. He brushed his sooty fingers against his pants, waiting for her to sidle up next to him.

"Rearranging furniture at a time like this, Nii-san?"

Kureto shrugged, offering no answer. "My condolences for the loss of your fiancé."

"Our brother," Mahiru countered, her voice flat.

"Our brother," Kureto agreed, nodding towards the covered lump towards the center of the room. According to the first witnesses, there had only been one body, burnt beyond recognition. The only assumption was that it belonged to the former crown prince. Although someone had draped a blanket over the body to hide the gruesome details, it remained as a grim reminder in the center of the room.

"That was the only body recovered," Kureto continued, noticing how tense his sister seemed. After his words, she visibly relaxed, her shoulders slumping and pursed lips softening. "It must have been an unfortunate…accident."

"Unfortunate indeed." Their conversation was far too polite and repetitive for Mahiru's comfort. She rather disliked how much emphasis Kureto placed on each word. With no evidence of Guren's or her involvement to conceal, she was ready to leave.

As she daintily stepped around the covered body, she could still feel Kureto's stare piercing her back, but she paid him no mind. If he hadn't figured out her involvement by now, then he didn't deserve to be called a Hiiragi. She knew he wouldn't reveal anything to their father. His chance for a claim to the throne had opened up, just as hers did.

Mahiru slipped out of the room, passing by huddled groups of whispering nobles and servants. She even noticed Shinya's tutor hanging by the wall, watching the progress with red-rimmed eyes. Seishirou stood beside her, his eyes similarly bloodshot, though that was more likely caused from the copious amount of wine Mahiru had watched him guzzle during the ceremony. Mahiru avoided their gaze, playing the part of a distressed, distracted fiancé.

However, she slowed her purposeful stride when she spotted Shinoa's wide eyes peering at her from around a column. She planted her hands on her hips and tilted her head, waiting. After a moment, Shinoa shuffled out into the open, fingers clasped behind her back.

"What are you doing up still? It's late."

"I…I heard a commotion and I wanted to see what happened."

"It was a fire."

"In Shinya-nii-san's room?"

"Yes."

"Who—"

"Go back to bed, Shinoa-chan. There isn't anything you can do." Mahiru reached out and smoothed down a lock of Shinoa's hair. She offered her a smile before moving past her.

There was a beat of silence; for a moment, Mahiru thought Shinoa had retreated back to her room.

"Did the Kingslayer take him away?"

Mahiru stiffened, wondering where Shinoa had gotten that idea. _I thought I had seen her sneaking near my room._ She shook her head fondly before turning back to face her younger sister.

"Kingslayer? Oooh! How scary! I'm sure it was nothing more than an unfortunate accident. You shouldn't be frightened."

"I wouldn't be frightened anyway, 'cause I'm not a king." She paused, considering her next words carefully. "Then again, Nii-san wasn't one either."

She studied Shinoa's face for a moment, noting the jutted lip and her bright stare. Although she looked timid now, Mahiru knew firsthand how skillfully Shinoa could distort her expressions. After all, she had learned from the best, in Mahiru's humble opinion. If she didn't confide in her younger sister, it could lead to Shinoa prying into books that Mahiru preferred to keep closed.

Yes, perhaps she would tell Shinoa in the morning, once she slept off the pounding headache from Shinya's attempt to poison her.

* * *

In a belated revelation, Guren realized how grateful he was to not be claustrophobic. Although he had trudged through the pitch black tunnel for a couple of minutes, it felt like forever had passed until his sensitive eyes caught the faint pinpricks of light in the distance. He increased his speed, panting and grumbling as he dragged Shinya along with him, until he slowed to a stop in front of the barrier.

He reached forward tentatively, his fingertips brushing against aged wood. With a satisfied grin, Guren pulled back a fist and plunged it into the central board, causing it to shatter and break away. He broke away the rest of the wood and pale moonlight flooded the tunnel. He squinted at the shadows outside of the exit, trying to get a sense of his location. After his eyes acclimated to the moon's glow, he could make out the hazy outline of trees surrounding him.

 _A lot of trees,_ he amended, craning his neck to search for an end to the forest's expanse. _I must be by the backside of the castle._

It made sense; the trees could serve as valuable hiding spots for fleeing fugitives. The sentries rarely patrolled along the castle's back walls, leaving the forest open for small, fireless camps. Still, Guren hobbled from the shadow of the castle to the safe haven of the trees as quickly as he could, hoping that the Hiiragis hadn't decided to increase security that night.

As soon as he found a suitable clearing, Guren unceremoniously dropped Shinya, sighing in relief as he rotated his sore shoulder. _I'm never going to carry that idiot again. If the dogs come, I'm leaving him._

Feeling significantly lighter, Guren wandered back to the edge of the forest, hovering cautiously in the trees' shadows as he studied the silent castle. Apart from the lazy tendril of smoke curling in the air from Shinya's window, it seemed as if the castle's inhabitants were still asleep.

 _Give it a few minutes._ He watched in thoughtful silence as lights in several windows flared to life. _They must know that something is wrong by now._

He shook his head and turned away from the castle. As far as he was concerned, he did his job. He wouldn't involve himself in the Hiiragi struggle for power anymore.

When he returned to the clearing, he noted with a raised brow that Shinya was still unconscious.

 _Maybe that poison was more potent than I thought,_ he mused, not particularly worried about the side effects.

 _Still…_ Guren was deathly exhausted and wanted to spend the next decade asleep, but he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep soundly until he guaranteed his own safety. He remembered how sharp Shinya's gaze had been after they had shed their disguises. As far as Shinya knew, he was the victim of a kidnapping orchestrated by his murderous fiancé.

He didn't want to wake up with a literal or metaphorical knife in his back, especially when he risked his life to save the crown prince's ungrateful ass from his own assassination attempt.

(He supposed it was technically his fault in the first place, but Guren preferred having an excuse to complain.)

Guren ripped off a strip of fabric off his sleeve before binding Shinya's wrists. It wasn't the sturdiest job, but Guren planned to be awake the moment he heard rustling. If anything, it would give him a warning.

With one last glance towards the full moon, Guren settled down, shifting and arching his back amongst the leaves and twigs until he found a comfortable patch. Within seconds, he fell into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

 **Thank you so much for reading and reviewing!** I'll update soon, I promise!


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note:** I know, I know. Long time no see. Fortunately, winter break is coming so I will have more time to devote to writing!

* * *

Upon awaking, Guren was greeted with a lurch in his stomach and an overwhelming sensation of " _I fucked up."_ He jerked into a sitting position, rubbing away the last crust of sleep from his eyes as he scanned the clearing. He squinted in the late-afternoon sunlight streaming through the treetops, wrinkling his nose as the bright beams caught his groggy brain off-guard.

 _I slept too hard. Kureto could have arrested me and I wouldn't have woken up until the sword was coming down._

Guren's gaze landed on a huddled bundle a few feet away.

 _Oh, right._ He had almost forgotten about the cause of his churning gut. A kidnapped crown prince with a bounty on his head, placed there by his own adopted family.

 _Dammit… Why did I have to get involved?_ Guren grumbled, cursing his inability to leave things alone.

He studied his prisoner for a moment longer, realizing with a slightly jolt that he too was being observed. Shinya pulled himself upright, keeping his bound arms tucked behind him.

"Sleep well?" The greeting sounded so hollow and ill-placed that Guren almost laughed, despite himself. He scanned over Shinya, taking note of the deep purple stain around the base of his throat and the greenish yellow knot rising from his temple.

 _He doesn't look very princely now._

"I'm surprised you slept that long," Shinya continued. His tone was cheery, but he studied Guren with thinly veiled suspicion. Guren couldn't say he blamed him. As far as Shinya knew, his crazy fiancé and adopted sister hired an Ichinose to assassinate him. Even if Shinya was unaware of the political connotations tied to Guren's name, he _must_ have recognized how dangerous the situation had become.

"I'm surprised I'm still alive," Guren responded.

 _That_ caught him by surprise. Shinya blinked and frowned. "Shouldn't _I_ be the one to say that?"

Guren hoisted an eyebrow and nodded towards Shinya's bound arms. "I tied your wrists in front of your body. Unless you used to be a runaway circus performer and twisted yourself in that position, you must have untied your restraints."

Shinya sighed and shrugged his shoulders, bringing his free hands to his lap, the scrap of Guren's sleeve still tangled between his fingers. "Shin—er, my younger sister used to beg me to play knights and dragons with me. She would insist on being the knight, but sometimes she'd forget about me, so I had to learn how to free myself." His expression fell at the memory.

Guren couldn't care less about some crown prince's backstory. He was concerned with a more _pressing_ question.

"If you're so resourceful, why am I still alive?"

Shinya puckered his lips as he considered the question. "Why would I try to kill you?" He seemed genuinely confused.

"I tried to kill you," Guren countered.

"No, my _fiancé_ tried to kill me. You…just sat there and watched. Kind of creepily, too." Shinya narrowed his eyes with a faint pout, but didn't comment further.

"Then why didn't you run away once you were freed? Obviously, I wouldn't have woken up." Guren still felt a bit irritated that he nearly slept through his own murder.

Shinya lowered his gaze and picked at the fabric in his hands. He tugged on one of the pieces of counterfeit embroidery, twining the loose silver thread between his fingers.

"I don't know what happened last night. The only thing I know for sure is you're the reason I'm not a pile of ash. Mahiru tried to kill me…but I'm still alive and you're sitting across from me. Which means I didn't burn to death or get strangled or die by some other horribly cliché assassination method."

Guren eyed him cautiously. _He's still a bit rattled, it seems._

"You didn't know Mahiru wanted to kill you?"

He offered Guren a weak smile. "I actually thought Kureto sent you. I figured _he_ was the one who wanted me dead."

Guren's gut twisted, but he passed it off as disgust for the Hiiragi's rather than pity. _So he knew someone wanted him dead after all. He just suspected the wrong Hiiragi. One in three chance, I guess._

"He helped," Guren added. "He must have figured out Mahiru's plan."

 _After all, they both would have benefited from it._

"Why?"

"Why?" Guren was being far too chatty with the crown prince. He wasn't comfortable with how much he was willing to divulge from Mahiru's plan.

 _It doesn't matter much anyway._

"Why did Mahiru call _you_?" Shinya squinted at Guren, gaze jumping from his hair to his stolen uniform. "She said you were an Ichinose. You're from a family of dangerous rebels who supported the tyrant king."

 _Is that how the new story goes?_

Guren glanced over Shinya's shoulder, debating on how much to share. He shouldn't have opened his damned mouth in the first place.

"Mahiru was convinced that this bullshit prophecy abo—"

"About kingslayers?" Shinya's mouth flicked upwards in a grim smile. "So I've heard."

Guren crossed his arms, not altogether impressed by the grimy, ash-covered crown prince in front of him. He seemed to take all of this too lightly.

"So, instead of running away, you decided to interrogate your assassin about a prophecy you already knew about?"

 _Why didn't this idiot escape?_

Shinya's smile grew. "For an assassin, you're pretty awful at your job. You ended up _saving_ my life instead of taking it."

"And you think that means you're saved?" Shinya froze, the afterglow of his once jovial expression still stretched across his face. "You might not have burned in the castle, but that doesn't mean you're free."

"Huh?"

"I'm still taking your life, _my Lord._ I'm just taking it somewhere far away from here."

Shinya's lip curled in a frustrated sneer. "I see. The only reason you saved me was so you could execute me later? Were you planning on making it a public show? An Ichinose slaying the Hiiragi heir."

As heavy as he was to drag around, Guren almost preferred the unconscious Shinya to his awake counterpart.

 _He certainly has the Hiiragi flair for dramatics._

"Yes, _that's_ my evil plan. As if our name wasn't vilified enough." Guren rolled his eyes. "If we waste any more time here, your family is going to find us. Then neither of us will have to worry about anything ever again."

Shinya clamped his mouth shut and nodded. Guren could tell he was still suspicious, but being alive long enough to figure out Guren's motives was greatly preferred to being murdered by his adopted family.

" _Finally._ Now, let's find the nearest town that hasn't heard the news yet."

* * *

They managed to walk for fifteen minutes before Shinya broke the silence. Guren winced as his companion opened his mouth, sensing this would be a common occurrence.

"How did you ever become acquainted with Mahiru?"

Guren quickened his pace, leaving Shinya to trail a few feet behind him. Part of him knew he should be concerned about leaving an exposed back, but he soon realized only his ears and brain were in any danger.

"Did you know her beforehand? It _sounded_ like you had some history. Or did she advertise for a kingslayer at the local taverns. There must not be very many qualified candidates since the last king to die was the Tyrant Ki—"

"Do you ever shut up?"

Shinya quickened his pace to match Guren's. Judging from his wide grin, he was intentionally trying to rile Guren up. _Just my luck._

"Would you rather I complain about how hungry I am? I can do that too."

Guren scowled. He would prefer mindless complaints to Shinya's unnervingly astute remarks, but he didn't want to let Shinya know that his questions were wriggling themselves into Guren's gut.

"I know we woke up late, but I haven't eaten since before the coronation ceremony!"

"Can you just be quiet? I have more of that poison and I will drag your unconscious ass back to Isko." A bluff. Guren had been too _preoccupied_ with his new baggage to swing by and grab his traveling sack. Still, Shinya didn't need to know that.

"Isko? That's where we're going? But that's not far from here. Don't tell me that the Ichinose rebel forces were only a week's ride from the Hiiragi castle!"

"I didn't expect you to be so well-versed in geography."

"Well, when you aren't allowed to leave, you learn to escape through different methods." Shinya's expression remained unchanged, almost as if he were remarking about the weather.

Guren paused before changing the subject. "We'll end up going much further than Isko, but I'm supposed to meet people there first."

"This kidnapping is surprisingly well-planned."

He gave his companion a side-eye glare. "I didn't anticipate this _being_ a kidnapping in the first place. Having you along will slow us down and make this riskier."

Shinya hardly seemed sympathetic. Still, he filed Guren's comment away for later.

* * *

After another hour of beautiful silence, Guren's stomach was the one to break it. He pursed his lips, trying to look stern as Shinya struggled to conceal his shaking shoulders.

"We probably should stop to eat soon. It's getting late and soon it'll be too dark to even find anything."

Guren certainly agreed, though he had been trying to avoid this conversation, since his few remaining coins were in his discarded bag, miles away in dangerous territory. Likewise, the last town they had passed felt too close to the castle.

(Guren swore he could still catch a glimpse of the Hiiragi's red flag when he turned around, even though the castle had dropped out of sight long ago.)

"I don't ha—" Guren broke off at the sound of a breathy whistle, floating through the air. Both he and Shinya froze, scarcely breathing as a wandering merchant passed through the trees several meters away. He hadn't seen them, too pushed grunting and puffing, trying to keep the tune as he pushed his rickety cart. With his frown darkening, Guren reached back for his short knife.

"Wait!" Shinya grabbed Guren's wrist, causing him to tense at the jarring action. "Don't do anything yet!" He immediately dropped to a kneeling position, tugging on a patch on his boots. Guren caught a flash of silver before Shinya straightened up, keeping his fist clenched.

"There's not point attracting attention to ourselves. He would just end up running to the next town, screaming about thieves in the woods."

Guren nodded, but said nothing. He hadn't intended on leaving their unlucky benefactor in a strong enough condition to do much running or screaming.

"Besides, he's still one of my subjects, even if I'm nothing more than a dead crown pretender."

Again, Guren took note of the cryptic wording, but remained silent on the matter.

"Fine, but if he recognizes you, we have to make sure that he doesn't tell anyone."

Shinya rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "Guren, I don't think you understand how little they let me out. He _won't_ recognize me." Guren wrinkled his nose at the casual use of his name. He could do without the friendliness, but he hoped Shinya was right.

They agreed that Guren should do all of the talking.

(It was more of a declaration on Guren's part, Shinya acquiescing with a roll of his eyes and splayed palms.)

"Hullo sir." Guren made sure to step on the loudest leaves and twigs as they approached the merchant. Shinya buttoned his collar to hide the residual bruises before trailing after Guren.

He swung around with a cheery smile. "Hello there! I didn't expect to see fellow travelers on this road. The company will be nice!"

"I'm afraid we're heading back the opposite way. We saw you traveling and wondered if you had any spare food to sell. _That_ one," Guren shot a theatrical glare in Shinya's direction, "let our rations grow mold." Shinya ducked his head, hiding his face from view while playing the part of an embarrassed friend.

"Of course! Of course! I was just about to stop, so why don't you join me!"

Guren suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. They could have robbed him blind and he would have still kept whistling. He hastily thanked the merchant for the offer, but spun a woeful tale about how they were late and needed to be on their way.

"Ridiculous!" The merchant waved him off. "You'll join me right here!"

Guren and Shinya exchanged glances, the latter shrugging as if to ask what the problem was. Guren sighed before settling down. It seemed they wouldn't have much choice if they wanted to eat.

As Shinya dropped his coins into the man's plump palm, he dared to ask about the Hiiragi royal family. Guren gave him a sour frown when the merchant was turned away to root through his bags.

"Oh, I'm afraid I don't know much about all that. I'm not from around here, you see. I heard dreadful news about some young prince dying from an accident, but that's all I know."

"Accident?"

"Fire, I believe. Dreadful, dreadful." The merchant winked, shifting the mood from death to food. "But the lives of nobles are far from my concern. I'm more worried with what I'm about to put in my mouth."

Guren offered a weak smile as the merchant babbled on and on about various topics ranging from wool prices to dye shortages. Shinya seemed to be engrossed in the topic, but when he caught Guren's eye, he feigned an exaggerated yawn. Guren hid his smile in his sleeve, annoyed that Shinya almost made him laugh, but not overly so.

Their guest continued to talk, long after the sun had set and their fire from dinner was the only source of light. Guren had felt it would have been rude to excuse himself earlier and the merchant had offered a few valuable tidbits on the local news, but now he regretted his decision to stay. Shinya was curled up beside him, most likely sleeping through the last remnants of the poison.

(Guren would know; it took several days for him to get it out of his own system when he accidentally infected himself the first time he used it.)

However, now that he knew he didn't have a curious audience, Guren took the opportunity to ask more about local news.

"So, you didn't hear any more about the Hiiragis?"

The merchant furrowed his brow, probably confused as to why Guren seemed so fixated on the subject. "No, not that I can remember..." He tapped his chin before a spark flared in his eyes.

"Oh, there was one other small thing!" Guren waited expectantly. "This doesn't have anything t'do with the poor dead prince, but I remember at one of my trade stops talking with a guard. He seemed to think that the kingdom was soon going to be at war." Guren's eyebrows shot up and he half-wondered how it was possible to forget such a " _little"_ piece of news.

"I'm not from around here, so I don't know who they'd be fighting, but apparently it's going to be a big war. The guy bought three dresses for his girl, since he said he'd be away for so long."

Internally, Guren churned at the announcement. He had no idea who the Hiiragis would be fighting—their biggest rivals were below ground, hiding for their lives. He glanced at a softly breathing Shinya. _Does he know something about this? I wonder if it was connected with their attempt to murder him. An Ichinose killing the crown prince would be justification for war._

He wrinkled his nose, reflecting on what the merchant had said earlier. _But they claimed his death was an accident. Who are they going to war against then?_

The merchant was watching him expectantly. Guren blinked and shook his head.

"Uh, what did you say?"

"I was askin' if you two figured out where you were going yet. I still have a few towns to visit and I really could use the company."

Guren forced a rueful smile. "I'm afraid the next town will be where we part." They had already stayed with the man for too long as it was, but Guren's stomach was grateful for the respite, even if his ears were aching.

"Too bad," the merchant sighed gustily before yawning. "Coulda used the help."

With that, the conversation tempered off into a comfortable silence. Within moments, the man had fallen asleep, leaving Guren alone with the fire and his thoughts.

 _Who could they be fighting?_

* * *

Guren woke up groggy, confused as to why he wasn't more on edge. Being on his own and in enemy territory had wreaked havoc on his sleep schedule, but now that he had this merchant snoring beside him, he felt like it was the perfect cover.

He rolled over just as Shinya was starting to wake up, twitching and flexing his muscles with soft grunts.

"Missing your downy mattress, my Lord?"

(Guren sure as hell wouldn't admit it, but he couldn't wait until he was back in his own bed.)

Shinya gave him an unreadable smile before shrugged and sitting up. "Sleeping on the ground makes me nostalgic."

Guren frowned at the cryptic response, but his follow up question was distracted when he noticed Shinya picking at the soles of his shoes.

"That was clever, keeping money in your boots."

Another thing Guren would never admit: talking to the merchant instead of robbing him had been a profitable decision.

"Surprisingly, the credit should go to someone else." Shinya offered him a sloppy grin, very unlike the thin-lipped smile from before. "These were Seishirou's old shoes. He used to get the maids to sew coins into the lining so he could go out to the taverns and have enough for some extra fun. Only problem was… he'd get too drunk to remember he had money in his boots! Imagine my surprise when I inherited them. I thought I was wearing bricks at first."

 _A crown prince getting secondhand boots from a stupid drunk?_

Guren blinked and then laughed, harder than he expected too, but it felt good. Shinya looked a bit startled before he joined in with light chuckles.

Their laughter was cut short by irate grumbling from their temporary travel companion, who groaned before rolling back over. They swapped amused expressions at being caught, Shinya grinning and Guren shaking his head with a soft roll of the eyes.

 _This was definitely not part of Mahiru's plan._

* * *

Mahiru found Shinoa curled up in a chair near the destroyed apartment. Although Shinoa had a talent for disappearing for hours on end, her recent bouts of hiding had almost concerned Mahiru. She never liked it when Shinoa would disappear for long periods of time.

"What are you doing here, Shinoa?" Mahiru tried to ask in a level voice. Being so close to Shinya's room made her anxious and giddy at the same time. She felt like she could still smell the thick, cloying scent of charred flesh, but Kureto assured her it was just her imagination. "You know this part of the castle is off limits now."

She sighed, wriggling out of the chair and walking back towards Mahiru, shoulders slumped in defeat.

"I _know._ It's just…"

"You miss your brother?"

Not _our_ brother. _Your_ brother.

Shinoa paused, considering her words. "No, that's not the whole answer."

Mahiru waited, always impressed with the deliberateness possessed by her favorite sibling (if that was something even possible to rank in her twisted family).

"First Shinya-nii-san is gone and now Kureto-nii-san is always away with the army. Soon my only brother will be Seishirou!" Shinoa stuck out her tongue, clearly displeased with the thought.

Mahiru laughed and shook her head. "You know Father trusts Kureto more than his other generals. He has to protect us from the scary monsters out there."

Shinoa puckered her lips around her protruding tongue. "Scary monsters? Like the vampires?" Mahiru glanced over sharply at her. Shinoa hastily continued. "I overhead one of the maids talking about vampires coming closer to the kingdom."

"Vampires? Tell Mado to stop telling you such wild bedtime stories!" Mahiru ruffled Shinoa's hair and kept walking. Shinoa watched her as she rounded the corner and disappeared. She flickered her gaze back towards Shinya's old room, doorway covered by a hanging sheet.

 _Bedtime stories? Mahiru had said the same thing about kingslayers and look what happened to Nii-san._

* * *

 **Thanks for reading! I know it's not as exciting, but soon the action will kick in again.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note:** Thanks for the continued support! I've found my second wind for this particular story, so be prepared for some more updates in the near future!

* * *

They said goodbye to their traveling companion at a crossroads beside a nearby town. Shinya waved with a wide smile, but as soon as the man rounded the corner and disappeared in the trees, he dropped his arm.

Guren watched him out of the corner of his eye. He still couldn't get a read on Shinya and it unsettled him. If his pleasant silliness could be worn like a mask, how could Guren trust anything he said?

When Shinya caught him staring, he smiled. Guren maintained the same stone-faced expression.

 _He probably doesn't trust me either. Maybe it's best that we're both cautious._

"So, should we head on into the town? I still have a little bit of money left if we want to get more supplies. Of course, when we meet up with your contact in Isko, you can pay me back for your share of the food."

Guren rolled his eyes, but Shinya had a point. The merchant had left them half a bread loaf and a few strips of dried meat. It wouldn't even be enough to last the day.

"I'm going into the town alone. You stay here and don't talk to strangers."

"Huh? Why?"

Guren did a quick once-over of the crown prince. Their clothes were permanently stained from the fire and the escape tunnel, but Guren's outfit at least looked fairly nondescript. The ashes had smeared the Hiiragi's crimson crest on his chest, effectively hiding any clues that he was more than a simple traveler.

Shinya's outfit, on the other hand, was painfully noticeable. If anything, the gashes and streaks of soot staining the silver embroidery and thick fabric made him look even more suspicious. Even if no one realized that is was a coronation uniform, Guren still knew that people would recognize the wealth of it.

"Because you look like someone dragged the crown prince through a fireplace."

"That's not altogether untrue," Shinya pointed out, earning a flat glare from Guren.

" _Point_ is, you'll attract attention. And we're still close enough to the castle where any attention is bad attention."

"Our friend didn't notice anything earlier."

"Our 'friend' was a bumbling idiot who wasn't from here."

"How rude!" Guren tried not to groan at Shinya's mock outrage. Thankfully, he accepted Guren's counterargument with a nod. "But you do have a point. This," he wrinkled his nose while tugging at his collar, "is getting a little old. I'll stay in the woods if you promise to bring me new clothes."

Guren returned the nod and set off towards the town entrance with a backward wave of his hand.

"Deal. But I'm not paying you back for the clothes."

Shinya grinned and slipped back into the trees.

* * *

Despite the comfortable chatter of a town waking up, Guren found himself feeling a bit lonely. He had only been with Shinya for a few days—and the latter had been unconscious for part of that time—but the crown prince's presence had become almost familiar for him. Certainly more familiar than the strangers milling around, ignoring him as they went about their day.

It was a strange, ridiculous feeling and he knew he should be grateful for the brief respite from Shinya's obnoxious cackle. Regardless, his mood still darkened when a man tripped over his pig and he couldn't find Shinya's crinkled blue eyes or his muted smirk to appreciate the sight with.

 _Pathetic. You were going to kill him a few days ago. Now you're acting like he's a friend. Adopted or not, he was still raised to be a Hiiragi. They're the ones who banished your family._

Guren swallowed and turned away from the pig pandemonium. The sooner he got what they needed, the sooner they could get back on the road to Isko.

He strolled towards the market area, already in full swing for the day. The area was larger and the stalls were more varied than he expected. Perhaps they wouldn't be forced to eat leftovers and dried meats for the rest of their journey.

He spied a tiny booth selling maps and other paper products and immediately moved towards it. A leather satchel with the Hiiragi crest draped over the merchant's chair.

"Do you deliver to Isko?" Guren nodded towards the mail bag.

The merchant sat back in his chair and crossed his spindly legs, one over the other. "For extra, yeah. It'll take a few days, so you best not be in a hurry."

Guren smiled thinly. If they were still a few days ride from Isko, that meant they had a lot of walking left to do.

"No, that's fine." The message would be nothing more than a courtesy to Shigure and Sayuri, letting them know he was still alive and that they had an extra companion.

"I s'pose you know how to write then? Here, one page only. Bag's nearly full."

Guren nodded and considered the blank sheet of paper before writing his message.

 _Safe. Will arrive in Isko within the week. Prepare extra supplies for a guest._

He didn't sign it. His retainers would know who sent it.

The man peered over Guren's shoulder and read the message. "Vague," he remarked casually, earning a tight-lipped stare from Guren. "The vague letters are always the most interestin'."

Guren rummaged through his pockets for the money from Shinya. He pushed the coins towards the man while explaining the mailing instructions.

"It goes to the inn at Isko. It's for a girl named Shigure. You can also give it to someone named Sayuri, but _only_ them."

The man nodded, scribbling down the instructions on the backside of the paper. "Mmmmhmmm. Got it."

Guren eyed him for a moment before turning away. The sooner he could stop sending cryptic messages through unreliable sources, the better.

* * *

In Shinya's defense, he was absolutely planning to stay silent and hidden until Guren returned. As interesting as it would be to explore the small town, he was grateful for the chance to rest. He would never admit it to Guren, but being in the castle had softened him, weakening his once sharp endurance.

When he heard a sniffling sound a few meters from the edge of the road, Shinya wrinkled his nose and tried to ignore it. However, curiosity got the better of him and he carefully crept to the edge of the tree line to see the source.

A small boy had collapsed on the edge of the road, trembling with his face buried in his hands. Shinya frowned. The boy looked pathetic, each hiccup-y sob rattling his slim frame. A dark, crusted crimson stained the edge of his tunic and pants, prompting Shinya to stay hidden for a few moments longer as he considered the situation.

 _He doesn't look injured…just upset. Really upset._

Shinya's gaze glossed over the boy's messy brown hair and his slender shoulders, landing on the blood-drenched clothes.

 _But that's suspicious as hell._

Shinya rolled his eyes upwards and took a quick inhale before approaching the child. He tried snapping as many twigs and crunching as many leaves as possible, but the boy didn't register his approach, even after Shinya was hovering directly over him.

He tapped the boy gently with a shoe. The boy startled, jerking backwards and staring at Shinya with wide green eyes. He scrambled backwards with a yelp, trying to crawl away from Shinya.

Shinya held out his hands, a bit surprised himself by the kid's frantic reaction. "Hey! It's all right! I won't hurt you!" He dropped to his knees and grabbed the boy's thin shoulder. Shinya shook the boy gently until he stopped his panicked thrashing.

The boy blinked slowly, almost as if he were waking up from a nightmare. His terrified expression faded to a wearier one.

"Who-who are you?"

Shinya frowned and sat back, loosening his grip on the boy's shoulder. "It doesn't matter who I am. Who are you?"

The boy swallowed and Shinya took the opportunity to study him. He might have been Shinoa-chan's age, though the signs of severe malnutrition made his estimate hazy at best.

"I-I'm… My name is Y-Yoichi."

"Yoichi?"

His head bobbed once, the motion causing the swollen tears in his eyes to wobble.

"What happened to you, Yoichi?"

Shinya tried to keep his voice gentle and level—a skill he had picked up while living with an irritable Seishirou—but he feared it might have been the wrong thing to ask. Yoichi clammed up, bright eyes widening.

However, with another audible swallow, he answered in a wavering voice. "My sister and I…we were trying to get away. They-the _monsters_ found us…"

"Monsters?" Shinya's brow furrowed. _Invaders? Could they be who the merchant mentioned earlier?_

Yoichi snared his lip between his teeth. "Th-the vampires. They killed my sister. She told me to run, but I couldn't! I saw them kill her!"

Shinya tried to keep the same calm expression, even though his gut was churning.

 _Vampires?_ He always thought they were creatures from his storybooks, nothing more. But if what Yoichi was saying was true, then the kingdom could be in grave danger.

 _Vampires?_ He echoed. _The king sent Nii-san to fight vampires?_

Suddenly, his forced abdication from the throne wasn't looking as bad as it had once seemed.

Yoichi was still talking, staring blankly at the ground as he recalled the traumatic experience. "One of them wanted to look for me, but the other said they had to go back and report what they found. I—I ran away as fast as I could."

 _That sounds like it was a scouting party. That must mean they're organized, maybe even hierarchical._ He already had two major families eager for his blood—he didn't need a third.

"Yoichi, can you answer one more question for me?" His eyes snapped back to Shinya and he nodded. "How long ago did you escape from the vampires?"

Yoichi considered the question. Judging from his gaunt expression and pinched cheeks, Shinya knew it had to been at least a few days.

"I'm not sure. Three days, maybe?" His gaze drifted over Shinya's shoulder as he stared at something invisible. "I can't remember…. sorry."

Shinya forced another encouraging smile, but internally he was still rattled by the story. _If vampire scouts are that close…_

"It's all right. You've been very helpful."

He could have slipped away, backed into the trees without a second glance. He had already risked his cover by talking to the kid, but he had learned some interesting developments. He wondered how long Yoichi would survive on his own. He had escaped vampires and other dangers for three days, but exhaustion and hunger were clearly taking a toll.

 _Dammit._ Guren would _kill_ him if he found out what he was about to do. Still, he couldn't leave Yoichi to die. _Call it the street orphan code._

(Or maybe he just had a soft spot for the kid.)

"Hey, come on, Yoichi. Let's get you fixed up." Yoichi looked up and gaped at Shinya, lips parted like a confused fish. Shinya planted his hands on his hips and hoisted an eyebrow. Yoichi finally got the message and scrambled to his feet. Shinya placed a hand between Yoichi's shoulder blades and gently propelled him towards the town entrance. Yoichi stiffened at the contact at first, but eventually allowed Shinya to guide him.

Shinya kept most of his attention on his surroundings as he and Yoichi slipped under the arched entranceway. The town was small, nowhere near as complex as the city within the castle's walls. It made navigation easier.

It also would make steering clear of strangers difficult, though he was relieved to see neither Guren nor the crimson crest of the Hiiragi family guards. He craned his neck, gaze jumping from building to building. A low, whistling tune caught his attention.

 _There!_

He pushed Yoichi towards the scent of warm bread, floating out of an open window. After a few steps, Yoichi's feet moved on their own accord as he lurched towards the food. Shinya rapped his knuckles against the window threshold and a flour-covered face peered back at him.

"Morning, ma'am. Do you happen to have an available room? Maybe for a while?"

Her gaze jumped from Yoichi's blood-stained clothes to Shinya's torn and sooty coronation vest.

"No."

Shinya smiled thinly and reached into his back pocket. He had ripped out some of the embedded gems from his ceremonial costume while Guren had been sleeping. It was reassuring to know he had a few resources if he and Guren were to ever get… _separated._

 _Great. And now I'm going to blow them on some kid._

He held out a thumbnail sized ruby and dropped it on the window sill. The woman eyed it carefully before sweeping it up and stuffing it in a chest pocket.

"My son—he left to join the army. His room is empty for the moment. We could do with an extra hand around the shop."

"Perfect. My friend is a hard worker. Right, Yoichi?" Shinya grinned and slapped Yoichi on the back.

Yoichi jumped before nodding vigorously. "Uhm, yes. I am!"

"And you?" She appraised him, eyes traveling up and down his thin frame. Neither he nor Yoichi looked particularly strong, but free labor was free labor.

Shinya shrugged with a rueful smile. "I'm just passing through. I'm afraid Yoichi can't come with me." He paused, faintly surprised to hear Yoichi's soft hiccup. _We've known each other for less than an hour. Did he really expect me to take him under my wing like some sort of mentor?_

"However, I'll be back soon. If Yoichi's doing well, I'll be sure to thank you for your hospitality." He dropped two more precious stone on the window sill, a deep green emerald and another ruby.

He knew he couldn't count on the woman to keep Yoichi in her home out of the kindness of her heart, but he did trust her greed enough to keep him there for an eventual payoff. Even if Shinya never came back—he doubted he would, judging by Guren's dogged determination to get them as far away as possible—this thinly veiled bribe would hopefully keep Yoichi safe long enough until he was able to strike out on his own.

The woman smiled at Yoichi, the expression still a bit flinty. "Yoichi, huh? Yes, we'll find a place for you."

Yoichi flinched but nodded, mirroring the woman's expression with a watery smile of his own.

"Do you mind if I help get him settled in?"

The woman jerked a thumb over her shoulder. "The house is next door. My son's room is the second one." She watched them for a moment before returning to her baking, whistling a cheerier tune.

Shinya pulled Yoichi towards the house and through the front door. He found the son's room easily enough and led Yoichi to the bed. Yoichi sat down heavily, eyes still wide and brow wrinkled.

 _He's probably still shocked._ Shinya's lips pulled into a rueful twist. He could sympathize; he had felt a similar disconnect when Tenri Hiiragi had pulled him from the tavern gutter and dressed him in silver silk.

 _Hopefully this turns out better for him than it did for me._

"Hey, Yoichi," Shinya began in a calm voice. He snapped out of his daze and blinked expectantly at Shinya. "I'm getting ready to go."

Yoichi nodded, his eyes glistening again. "Thank you," he mumbled.

Shinya smiled back, a genuine smile unlike the forced beam he had offered the woman earlier. He shrugged off his coronation vest, shivering slightly in the cool, weightless absence. He was a bit embarrassed to be flouncing around in just an undershirt, but he figured Guren would be back with new clothes anyway.

 _Besides, it'll be good to get rid of this. There's still a few small gems sewn into the lining. Maybe Yoichi can use them to start a new life._

"Here, take this." He passed Yoichi his stained vest, which he accepted with a stronger smile.

"Good luck, Yoichi!" Shinya called over his shoulder as he left the room. "Maybe we'll see each other again!"

 _Doubtful, but the kid can hope, right?_

* * *

Guren nearly had a heart attack at the sight of Shinya's face plastered on a flyer. He froze and backed up to see what it said before realizing with a nervous chuckle that it was a leftover coronation announcement.

 _Good. That means they still think he's dead. The Hiiragis shouldn't come after us._

Guren studied the flyer. It was like the one he saw earlier, but now that he had gotten the chance to see the crown prince up close and personal, he could confidently say that the printed image had very little resemblance to Shinya.

 _For one, the person on the flyer looks kind of nice. Shinya's actually an asshole._

He smirked and turned away before noting another person was beside him. The hairs on the back of Guren's neck prickled as he was reminded of how Mahiru found him, but the bystander was just a curious townsperson.

"Such a pity about the crown prince."

"Hmm?" Guren side-eyed the old man, not in the mood to gossip about royal tragedy.

"I heard from a messenger that they plan to entomb the poor prince's body in a few days. He'll be laid to rest with the other passed members of the royal family, may they rest in peace."

"His body?"

 _They found a body?_

"Mmm, yes. Terrible. He said he overhead the guards talking about it. It was so shriveled and burnt, no one could tell who died. But who else could it be other than the prince?"

Guren nodded slowly. "Who else," he echoed. His gaze drifted over the old man and he stiffened at the sight of Shinya slipping out of a house.

 _What happened to staying in the goddamn forest? I thought I told that idiot to stay put!_

He excused himself hastily and darted towards Shinya. He grabbed a fistful of Shinya's undershirt— _where'd his damn coronation vest go?—_ and yanked him close.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he hissed. He could feel curious stares on them. Out of his peripheral vision, he watched the old man approach.

Shinya threw a look back at the house and opened his mouth to respond, but Guren interrupted him by yanking an oversized wool cap over his silver hair and ears. Shinya squawked in protest and tried to pull the cap's hem back into a wearable position around his forehead, but Guren kept it firmly tugged down over the bridge of his nose.

"You forgot your hat!" Guren called out in a loud voice, halting the old man in his tracks. "Mum will be furious if I let you catch a cold!"

"Mum will be furious?"

"Shut up," Guren warned in a low voice. "That old man was looking at your coronation poster. If he recognizes you, we're both fucked."

Shinya stopped fidgeting with the cap and grinned at Guren. Guren could only see the tip of his nose, making his broad grin look distorted and creepy, like some faceless monster.

"Thanks, Onii-chan! You're so thoughtful and kind~!"

Guren rolled his eyes and towed Shinya towards the town exit.

* * *

At first, Guren refused to pass Shinya his new change of clothes, instead opting to cross his arms and stare at Shinya from across the clearing. A wind had blown in from the north and Shinya was now feeling it as it ruffled his thin undershirt. Likewise, being under the shady trees only made the air feel crisper.

"C-come on, Guren!" Shinya shivered with a half-hearted glare in his companion's direction.

"You had a perfectly good shirt."

"W-we both agreed th-that I n-needed to change!"

"You gave it to some kid. Besides, you have a hat now." Shinya's glare intensified and he lunged towards Guren, fingers splayed to catch a shred of the warm fabric Guren was taunting him with.

Guren shifted out of the way, only to get knocked over by a low sweep to his ankles. Shinya grinned triumphantly as he yanked on the fabric, but Guren only tightened his death grip on the sleeve. There was a soft popping sound as some of the seams ripped.

"Ah! Ah! Guren, you're going to rip it!"

Guren released his hold on the shirt, causing Shinya to tumble back with another startled shout. Despite himself, Guren chuckled as he pulled himself back into a sitting position. Shinya tried to look cross, but his scowl cracked the moment he pulled on the new over shirt. It was just as warm as his coronation vest, but less heavy and constricting.

"Anyway, I found out some interesting information from Yoichi."

"Yoichi?"

"The kid. He and his sister had been attacked by vampires."

"Vampires?"

"Yes, and this will go faster if you stop repeating everything I say."

" _Jackass_."

"Hmm. Anyway, according to Yoichi, they're only a few days out. At least, the scouts were that close."

"But scouts might mean a larger force is right behind them."

Shinya nodded, his humorous expression slipping for one more serious. "Right. I think that might be who Nii-san—er, Kureto—was sent to fight. Other than your family, they might be the only ones to pose a threat to the Hiiragi royal family."

"It's possible," Guren agreed with a frown. If this were true, he needed to return to the Ichinose compound immediately. Whatever plan he had regarding the crown prince could wait. There wasn't much of a point to reclaiming a throne when the kingdom was drained by vampires.

"We need to hurry."

"No argument here. Oh, and Guren?"

 _"What?"_

"Thanks for the hat."

* * *

 **Thanks for reading!  
** Also, that isn't the last we'll see of Yoichi, so stay tuned!


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note:** This is the one of the last "set up" chapters before stuff really starts to hit the fan. Also, the expected length of this story just jumped ten+ more chapters. I was originally going to focus on the Light Novel cast (Shinya, Guren, and his squad), but now I've decided to dump all the major characters in this story.

rip me.

* * *

The official mourning period had passed and the final entombment ceremony for the crown prince would be tomorrow. He knew they had to maintain a public appearance of grief, especially since many in the kingdom had adored the adopted Hiiragi heir, but Kureto saw it as a waste of time and resources.

He couldn't afford to be called back each time the royal family needed to make an appearance. His soldiers had found more evidence of vampires moving closer into their territory. Ghost stories about destroyed villages and discarded travelers, drained on the side of the road, were sparking panic among the masses.

Kureto scowled as he picked through his wardrobe, brushing off the dust from his ceremonial clothes. This outfit should have been set out and freshened in advance.

 _Just because I am away does not mean my possessions should be neglected._ He glanced at the remnants of cobwebs in the far corners of his room. It was as if the room hadn't been cleaned since the last time he had been called to the castle.

 _That must have been right before the coronation._

Nearly a week ago. He had been out with his men for a majority of the time since the fire, chasing after shadows with little luck. He strode towards the door and cleared his throat. Immediately, a servant standing in the hallway jumped to attention.

"Uhm, yes, Master Kureto? How may I help you?"

Kureto gestured towards his clothes with a frown. "The condition of my room is unacceptable. Has Kusonoki been slacking off in my absence?"

The servant's eyes widened and she shook her head quickly. "No, my Lord!" A pause and a swallow. "Uh, well, kind of, my Lord."

He lifted an eyebrow and the servant hesitated before confessing.

"Truthfully, Master Kureto, no one has seen Kusonoki since the death of the poor crown prince. There are, uh, rumors that he had fled the castle before the late crown prince's banquet, but…uh…"

"But what?"

"I saw him running towards the fire that night. He was carrying a pitcher of water, saying that it was his fault for always lighting too many candles. I don't think he realized how bad the fire was. No one had seen him since." She dipped her head to escape Kureto's intense stare. "We assumed he felt guilty and ran away because he couldn't save the crown prince."

Kureto digested her words with a thoughtful slash of the lips. Kusonoki had worked for the Hiiragi family for many years. Although he could be rash and emotional, Kureto never saw him as a coward. An overly eager fool, perhaps. But not a deserter.

He thanked her before striding purposefully towards Shinya's room. The hallway still reeked of char and smoke, but the family couldn't erase the evidence until a proper amount of time had passed.

A complete waste of resources, really.

He pushed through the curtain, his gaze traveling slowly over the destroyed furniture. The blanket-covered body had been removed, lovingly prepared for burial by the two of the nurses who had doted over the late crown prince. Shinya's discarded circlet had been removed as well, but Kureto could still see the ashy outline of where it had fallen from the prince's head.

Kureto knelt down, brushing at the char pattern with the meat of his palm. He had been so distracted by his military pursuits and his eagerness to regain access to the throne that he had accepted the investigative conclusion like everyone else. An unfortunate accident had led to the death of the crown prince.

He knew it hadn't been an accident, but that was a secret he intended to keep from the public. After all, he had been the one to send the Ichinose assassin to Shinya's room. He had also found and concealed the escape route that he had used. With such a succinct and neat ending, Kureto had fallen into a confident rut like Mahiru and his father.

Now, however, he had questions.

The body had been too burnt and distorted to identify properly. Apart from a few important markers, the body could have belonged to anyone. Male, presumably young judging by the number of teeth and size of build. The Ichinose boy as well as half of Kureto's soldiers fit that description.

He turned and the corner of his eye caught on a discarded blob of debris a meter from where the body had fallen. It was mangled and whitened from heat, but he could make out the vague outline of a handle. He reached for it and the brittle metal snapped off in his hand.

 _A pitcher._

It could have easily been mistaken for part of Shinya's table setting, but those pieces were silver and wouldn't have warped as severely in the flames. His eyes narrowed. This pitcher was metallic, cheap, and durable. Something a servant would grab from the kitchen in a panic.

There was a body, but it didn't belong to the crown prince. Until he found indisputable proof himself, he would assume that Shinya was alive and well.

He glared at the wardrobe, still shoved against the escape tunnel he presumed Ichinose had used after killing Shinya. The tunnel he thought Ichinose _alone_ had used _._

 _Where have you taken our dear crown prince?_

* * *

When Shinya woke, he was surrounded by darkness. Groggy and confused, he scrambled into a seated position and looked around with squinting eyes, searching for light. As his eyes adjusted to the pale glow from the waning gibbous moon above, he realized he was still in the forest. He sighed and sat back.

 _It was just a dream._ He rubbed his cheeks and the crust under his eyelids, no longer in the mood to sleep much longer. There he was, having nightmares like he was six-years-old again. He supposed he had a right to be jumpy though—Yoichi's warning about vampires had been rattling in his mind for the last two days.

 _Great. And the fire went out too._

Shinya shivered, rubbing his sleeves until warmth bled back into his arms. He had always been cold-natured; Seishirou had mocked him for it, though Shinya never understood why he found it funny.

He frowned at the charred pit where the fire had been. A few broken branches were piled nearby, but there were no glowing embers to even rekindle the fire.

 _Damn. It's cold… and dark._ Shinya wrinkled his nose, not fond of either.

"Hey, Guren?"

No response. Shinya could only make out the huddled form of his traveling companion a few meters away.

"Guren? Hey, _Gur_ en! Are you awake?"

Nothing. Just the rumbling sounds of Guren's snores.

(That had been an interesting surprise, when Shinya first heard Guren's snores. Guren vehemently denied it, which only made Shinya tease him more. Now Guren refused to fall asleep until he was certain Shinya was already asleep, which lead to several late nights of playing chicken.)

He sighed, loudly. "I guess I have to take care of it myself."

Shinya tipped forward until he was resting on his palms and knees. He crawled closer to the fire pit and added a few branches to the pile. He peeked up one last time, checking to make sure Guren was still asleep.

He cupped his hands and lowered them to the branches. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and then yanked his fingers away quickly. Moments later, a crackling warmth rose from where his hands had been, flickering and growing as it licked across the wood. Shinya shuffled backwards and a healthy flame swelled from the center of the branch pile.

Shinya felt the reassuring heat across his face and smiled.

 _Much better._

Across the clearing, he could see that Guren was still asleep, mumbling softly in between snores. Crickets and other night creatures skittered and chirped in the woods around them as the fire cracked and popped. Everything was as it should be.

Shinya yawned, contently aware of his sudden, mounting exhaustion, and curled back into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

A shadow loomed in her doorway. She looked up and frowned, lips pressed tightly in an unhappy pout.

"Can't a girl have some privacy?"

Kureto crossed his arms and stepped into the room, taking her words as an invitation.

"Don't leave your door open then."

Mahiru considered him before returning to her work. She scratched out a line in her letter before writing over it.

"I was hoping for a different sibling " She dipped her pen tip in the ink and brought it back to the page.

"That's what I've come to talk about. A problem has come up."

" _Really_? With _who?_ " His gaze remained impassive. "When was the last time you ever bothered to care about Shinoa-chan? As for the other, father gave us permission to kill Seishirou if he ever threatened the Hiiragi reputation. I doubt either of them are capable of causing my big scary _brother_ any trouble."

"I'm talking about the _other_ one."

 _That_ caught Mahiru's attention. She lowered her pen, lips parting in a confused frown. " _Him?"_

"He isn't dead."

"Then whose body- _"_

Kureto flourished a wrist dismissively. "A foolish servant who tried to rescue him. Your so-called assassin saved him from the fire. He's still alive, hiding somewhere in the kingdom."

Her frown deepened into a sneer. "If he's smart, he'll stay that way. _Hidden._ "

Kureto's expression revealed nothing. She hated his stony stare, how he searched for answers from the fleeting emotions of others. She stared back, just as blankly.

"We both know how dangerous this could be. If the people find out that the crown prince was almost assassinated and he attempts to reclaim power—"

"You think _Shinya_ is strong enough to lead a coup?"

"Not alone, no. But there are many who would sacrifice themselves if it meant overthrowing the Hiiragi family. The Ichinose rebels, perhaps. He would be a disposable puppet for them. Surely this mourning period has shown you how much the people love their pretty things."

Mahiru narrowed her eyes. "If Guren has him, he's as good as dead. He wouldn't betray me like that."

"Naivety doesn't suit you, dear sister. He's betrayed you once already by rescuing Shinya."

He turned to leave and paused, glancing over his shoulder at her. "I am merely telling you this as a courtesy. Although I have few men to spare, we need to find him and prevent any more complications. Their orders are to kill anyone involved quickly and quietly, which will include the Ichinose boy if he's still with him."

Mahiru remained silent. The threat was meant for more than just Guren and Shinya. Her own name could be dragged into the treasonous plot if Kureto so desired.

"I would be a fool if I didn't suspect you of being in contact with him. Encourage him to surrender Shinya and no harm will come to the Ichinose family."

He reached to pull the door closed, but Mahiru stopped him with a shake of the head. "Leave it open," she said in an overly cheery voice. It was hollow and fake and Kureto knew it meant their conversation was over. "Shinoa-chan should be coming by any moment now."

Kureto glanced into the empty hallway before leaving. Mahiru curled her fingers into tight, trembling fists and suppressed the urge to rip her ruined letter to shreds. Instead, she reached for a new, blank sheet of paper.

* * *

If she hadn't been trying to surprise her sister, Shinoa would have barged into the room rather than sneaking towards the door. Kureto's deep, rumbling voice had caused her to freeze, hovering beside the open door as she eavesdropped.

Once she had heard what they were talking about, she _definitely_ didn't want to be caught. Kureto-nii-san was too intense for her and the secrets he uttered only made things tenser.

She had slipped away as stealthily as she could, but her siblings' words refused to leave her mind, as much as she tried to forget them.

 _Shinya-nii-san is still alive? They're going to go after him?_

Shinoa wandered down the corridor towards her room, distracted by her thoughts. Shinya was always kind to her. Apart from Mahiru, he was probably the only one who ever paid any attention to her.

However, that didn't mean she felt compelled to do anything with the information she had just overheard. Shinya-nii-san was nice and silly, but he was adopted. Not a real Hiiragi.

 _Still… It would be interesting to go outside the castle walls just once._ She doubted anyone would even notice if she were to disappear for a few days.

"Lady Shinoa!"

Shinoa turned her head and smiled as a flustered girl hurried towards her.

"I've been looking everywhere for you!"

Or maybe someone would notice if she were gone.

"Yes, Mi-chan?"

The girl grimaced at the nickname and smoothed down a stubborn blonde piece of hair.

"I told you not to call me that, Lady Shinoa. My name is Mitsuba."

"Awww, but I'm a princess and don't princesses get to do whatever they want?" Shinoa framed her chin with the back of her fingers and beamed at Mitsuba.

"Uh…"

" _Exactly,_ Mi-chan!"

Mitsuba sighed and shook her head. It was easier not to argue, though she was certain that Lady Shinoa tried to rile her up on purpose. It almost made her wish that she was assigned to serve a different member of the Hiiragi family. She never heard _Aoi_ complaining about Lord Kureto's ridiculous nicknames.

They walked towards Shinoa's room in silence, but as soon as Mitsuba shut the door, Shinoa rounded on her with a curious glint in her eyes.

"Have you ever left the castle walls, Mi-chan?"

"Of course I have!"

"Really? Where did you go?"

Mitsuba blinked before scowling over Shinoa's shoulder. "I, uh… I don't remember exactly. It was a long time ago."

Shinoa watched Mitsuba fumble through an excuse, her sly smirk growing with each stutter.

"That's too bad. I'm thinking about going on an adventure and it would be helpful to know where I'm going."

Mitsuba frowned and crossed her arms. "You aren't allowed out of the castle walls without permission."

"Don't you remember I'm a _princess?"_

"It's against the rules. _No one_ is allowed to leave."

Shinoa leaned forward, a sliver of teeth peeking through her smile. "Ah ha. Not even to go on _secret_ missions?"

Mitsuba's nose twitched, but she tried to conceal her interest by turning away with a huff. "Especially not for secret missions." She hesitated before glancing back. "But, uh, what kind of secret mission? It's not dangerous, is it?"

She winked. "You'll just have to find out, Mi-chan!"

* * *

Guren had been up for nearly an hour before Shinya finally stirred. He had spent most of his silent solitude glowering at their map in the weak morning sun. He was grateful for a new distraction.

"Sleep well, _Your Highness_?" He got a strange look from Shinya, but he didn't care. _Anything_ was better than looking at that shitty map he now realized he spent too much money on.

Shinya finished stretching, reaching over his head and arching his back with a good-natured groan. The action was vaguely catlike and Guren felt his nose wrinkle while watching him.

(He didn't trust cats. He was damn well allergic to them too.)

"The fire was still going when I woke up. You added more wood sometime last night?"

Shinya shrugged and smiled, but remained silent. Periodically, he would rub at his blurry eyes, prompting an eyeroll from Guren.

 _Looks like he'll take another minute to wake up. Doubt he'll be able to make much sense of this map either._

Still, it was worth a shot. He unfurled the map across the ground in front of him, smoothing down bumps from particularly clumpy patches of dirt or grass. Interested, Shinya shuffled closer to Guren, hovering over the map on the opposite side, neck angled downwards as he studied the scrawled notes and messy landmarks. He was so close that Guren could glance down and make out individual strands of his hair, free and loose from the woolen cap.

 _Wait…what?_

Guren pulled himself back with a scowl, settling heavily on his ankles and shins. The idiot seemed to have no concept of personal space.

Shinya either didn't notice Guren's retreat or kept his reaction hidden beneath the same sly smile from before.

"What was the town we were just at?"

"Hmm. Arita, I believe."

Shinya scanned the map before dropping an index finger on their former location. He frowned at the connecting roads before looking up with a furrowed brow. "Wait…we went west. Why did we go west? Isko is to the south of Arita."

He dragged his finger down a straight path, cutting across a faded green lake and a sketched mountain, and tapped twice when he reached Isko. It was several centimeters away and Guren dreaded to think how many more days of walking that would translate to.

"The messenger said there wasn't a direct route to Isko. Unless you can fly or navigate without a road, this is our best option. He said we'd have to cut west towards Kiso—" Guren broke off at Shinya sharp frown.

 _What's that look for? Does he know something about Kiso that I don't?_

Guren wracked his memory for information about the small travelers' stop, but could think of nothing incriminating or dangerous.

"Kiso?"

"Yeah, something wrong with that?"

Shinya narrowed his eyes, studying Guren with an intent concentration. He shifted reflexively, feeling his ankles burn under his weight. The last time Shinya stared at him with that much veiled suspicion, his next command had been for Guren to drink the presumably poison-laced cup.

"Maybe I owe someone money there."

"Be serious. Is there a problem?"

There was a brief stare off and Guren counted to ten in his head. Shinya relented first with a shake of the head.

"No, it's nothing." Guren remained silent, waiting for him to finish his explanation. "It's just—we lost all contact with Kiso a few months ago. I overheard Kureto talking to one of the royal advisors about it. They stopped paying taxes and all travel to and from Kiso ceased. I assumed they had changed loyalties, as they had always been sympathetic to the Ichinose clan."

Guren frowned. He had been busy with his own problems and hadn't had any spare time to waste on geopolitics, but he was sure he would have heard about an entire town switching loyalties. A declaration so bold would have caused ripples throughout their entire underground system.

"So you thought I was leading you into a trap?"

"Can you blame me? You haven't exactly been forthcoming about your plans for me."

"And I'm not going to tell you either." Shinya's lips pursed into a tight frown, but he remained silent. "But if it'll keep you happy and _quiet_ , I can promise you that we're going to Isko. Stopping at Kiso is just a coincidence. Hell, _I_ don't know anything about the place. It's not loyal to us either."

Shinya seemed mollified by the answer. He nodded and resumed studying the map, tracing routes around the Hiiragi castle with a slow deliberateness.

With Shinya distracted and his gaze directed elsewhere, Guren decided to indulge himself in another private smile. They were growing more frequent the longer he spent with Shinya.

"Besides, why would I bother wasting my time on traps when my idiot target keeps following me around?"

Without looking up from the map, Shinya flung a hand out, smacking Guren lightly on the shoulder. "Careful. Idiots can set traps too, you know."

It was meant as a joke, but Guren didn't doubt it. He just had to make sure whatever Shinya was planning wouldn't jeopardize his own mission.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading!** Like I said, last "slowish" chapter. Next chapter, things will go from 0 to 60 in like 2,000 words :')


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note:** Thank you guys so much for the constant support! I really appreciate each and every one of you!

 **Warning:** There is some mild body gore. Towards the end of the chapter, a character stumbles across a scene and it's not pretty. It's only a few paragraphs, but just giving you a head's up, since the descriptions incorporate more than sight.

* * *

Yoichi barely had time to adjust before he was thrown into a whirlwind of small tasks. His mysterious provider had been gone for a few hours before the baker's wife appeared in his doorway, clutching a change of clothes in one hand and a broom in the other.

He supposed he didn't mind. The work was simple and easy—clean here, take the bread out of the oven there—and it was refreshing to have a distraction. Hours blended into days and Yoichi soon found himself thinking less of the vampires and more about fresh bread. He even stopped jumping at each creak of the floorboard, an adjustment appreciated by all those around him.

Still, when the flame burned to the end of his candle wicks each night and the darkness stretched on, Yoichi found himself thinking about the bloody circumstances that led him to his new haven. Of the terrifying flight through the forest and his silver haired savior without a name.

On this evening, the baker's wife had given him a larger candle. It burned late into the night, tossing shadows and warm lights against his walls. He watched the flame shudder and dance, his hands folded under his cheek like a makeshift pillow. It was bright enough to catch on the glittering decorations on his mysterious benefactor's overcoat, still draped over the bedpost where he had left it last. The intricate embroidery shimmered under the candle's light and Yoichi reached out a tentative finger to trace one of the patterns. The pads of his fingertips came away sooty, just like whenever he raked out the coals from the oven.

 _What kind of person would give this away? Even with all this dirt, it must be worth a fortune. Is he going to come back to get it?_

Yoichi swallowed, considering his savior's refusal to share his name and his hasty retreat. It was suspicious all around.

(Yoichi had slipped out of the baker's house the morning after he arrived, curious to see if he could spot a glimpse of silver hair among the milling villagers. No one came close, apart from a faded old poster on a wall.)

 _He might have been a thief. Or maybe some other kind of criminal._

Whatever way he had come by the vest aside, he had been kind to Yoichi. But now Yoichi had no way of repaying him. He was just a weak, scared boy who had run away from the vampires when they killed his sist—

He stopped his train of thought with a suppressed sob, clutching at his chest with his ashy fingers.

 _Stop it. There was nothing you can do. Nothing you could have done then and nothing you can do now. Stop trying to deny the truth—you're useless. Only good for sweeping._

He fell silent, feeling his eyes burn with a wetness that blurred the flickering flame in front of him. He wished it would go out; he wanted to be back in the darkness where sleep would come for him and wipe away his thoughts. Yoichi sat up and reached for the candle, but hesitated when he noticed a shadow leaning against the far corner of his new room.

Lifting the candle from the side table, he moved slowly towards the corner, holding the light out in front of him like a makeshift weapon. He reached forward with his free hand, fingers wrapping around a slender limb.

 _It's a bow._

He swung the candle to the side to get a different view, illuminating a long wooden frame and a poorly stocked quiver of arrows. He wasn't sure how he had missed it before, but the thick layer of dust and cobwebs tangled in the bowstring assured him that it hadn't been used in some time.

 _It's huge…nearly bigger than me._ Yoichi held the candle at a careful distance from the bow as he inspected it. He wasn't familiar with the weapon and wasn't sure how flammable it might be.

Yoichi swallowed before blowing out the candle and climbing into bed. Perhaps there was something that he could do to help others.

* * *

They spoke in hushed whispers since it made their voices seem deeper, perhaps a little older. They needn't have bothered: the bulky silhouette of the cart driver hadn't shifted since they set off from the small outpost within the castle walls. He hadn't acknowledged their presence apart from the slight nod after Shinoa pressed a coin in his hand and murmured a direction.

The cart shuddered and lurched at each rut and Mitsuba was starting to get a headache from squinting at their driver in the darkness for so long. She had been against this mode of travel from the beginning, hesitant to trust the first trader they encountered, but she was now a bit glad they didn't have to sleep on the cold ground. It was faster than going by foot and she would rather watch one back than keep a wary eye out for wild animals or thieves each night.

Mitsuba would never admit it to Shinoa, but seeing the dark castle walls fade from sight had been a bit unnerving. They had only been in the cart for a few hours, but she already missed the security, the familiarity. She had poked her head out of the wagon once to look at the unending, impassive trees lining the road and instantly felt a surge of claustrophobia.

Also, she missed her bed. Warm, soft, and not prone to creaking.

She kept these discomforts to herself though. Partly to avoid Shinoa's caustic smirk, but more so because her lady seemed to be just as distracted.

"Lad—er, Shinoa," Mitsuba started, momentarily forgetting the dark rags that bound up their hair and added bagginess to their slight figures. It had all felt like she was playing dress up again, putting on commoner's clothes, but it made sneaking out of the castle much easier. They weren't princess and lady-in-waiting anymore. Just two scruffy travelers.

Shinoa shifted, her gaze meeting Mitsuba's. "Yes, Mi-chan?"

"Where are we going?"

"Hmmm… Not sure."

" _Huh?_ What did you tell the cart driver then?"

"To take us to the next biggest town. He said it was Arita, but I don't know where that is. Thought you might since you've gone beyond the walls, _right?_ "

Mitsuba frowned. She wasn't sure either. Geography and bluffing had never been her strong suits.

"Why are we going to Arita then?"

Shinoa shrugged. "The castle was getting a little stuffy, I think."

Mitsuba narrowed her eyes. She knew her lady often tended towards apathy, but there was something underlying her response. The same urgency that had tinged their first conversation, when Shinoa wanted to leave the castle walls.

"Why?"

"I don't need a reason, Mi-chan. I'm a princess," came Shinoa's retort, which only fueled Mitsuba's suspicions. Shinoa rarely pulled rank except when she was trying to rile her up, to distract her.

Mitsuba fell silent and considered all the things that had occurred over the past few weeks. The announcement, the coronation, the _fire._ Everyone around her had been acting strange. A little more off than usual, perhaps. Even her own sister had reacted unexpectedly, giving Mitsuba a tight-lipped frown when she inquired about how Lord Kureto was doing after his brother's death.

"I'm sad about the crown prince's death as well," she murmured, certain she had found the source of her lady's strange behavior.

Shinoa shot a sharp side-glance in her direction. "This isn't about Shinya-nii-san." A few beats of silence. "At least, not completely." Her expression slackened and Mitsuba was faced with an impassive stone wall.

 _No use asking anymore. Maybe she'll tell me more in the morning._

Mitsuba sighed and shifted her weight, trying to get comfortable before the cart's rocking lulled her to sleep.

* * *

Yoichi woke early and eager. He knew he had the day off—after all, there wasn't a point to baking when everyone was already at the market—but he didn't want to waste time. More importantly, he didn't want to be spotted by anyone, be it his new guardians or mocking onlookers.

He slipped out of bed, grabbed the bow, and slung the quiver over his shoulder. He buckled under the unexpected weight, stumbling a few meters into the hallway before he caught his balance.

 _Not a good sign._

He shook it off and slipped out the back door, making sure to keep the quiver centered over the small of his back rather than to the side.

Yoichi had watched archers practice before the vampires attacked and he understood the mechanism of the weapon, but he had never fired an arrow before. He shrugged off the quiver, grateful to be free of its bulky weight, and stared down at the heavy bow in his grasp. He tentatively plucked at the taut string and it buzzed back into place, vibrating for a few seconds before slowing to a stop.

 _All you have to do is pull it back. It can't be too difficult._

However, Yoichi soon learned that he overestimated the strength and physical dexterity necessary to balance the weapon, much less keep it balanced. He even resorted to pinning the bow frame to the ground with his feet while pulling the string upwards, earning a raw wrist and aching shoulders when the bowstring snapped back to place.

After an infuriating and exhausting struggle with the bow until his patience buckled, he gave up. Yoichi tossed the bow aside and collapsed into a cross-legged heap, lips pressed firmly shut to muffle a frustrated shout.

 _I'm useless. I was useless then and I'm still useless now._

He dropped his head into his hands, hating the warmth that dampened the edge of his fingertips.

 _Useless and weak and I can't do anything._

He didn't notice the branch snap nor did he hear the birdsong stop. He didn't hear the twang of the bowstring, but he jumped when a black arrow bit deep into the earth, a few centimeters from his knee.

Yoichi sucked in a deep breath and tried his best impression of a startled rabbit, unable to scuttle away under the stranger's heavy stare. When the stranger noticed his captive audience, he smiled a toothy, pointed smile.

"Relax, kid. I didn't miss."

Yoichi felt a weak breath slip in through his nose and out his mouth. At least he was breathing—always a positive sign.

"Who—who are you?"

"Does it matter?"

He swallowed and nodded. Names would matter now.

The man shook his head, maintaining the same amused smile. Locks of his messy fair hair bounced and bobbed with the motion. Some stuck up at permanent angles, like permanent horns, Yoichi observed offhandedly.

"Names hardly matter, but you may call me Gekkōin if you wish."

 _Gekkōin?_

"What do you want?"

Gekkōin stepped closer and plucked the arrow from the ground before dropping it in Yoichi's lap. Yoichi eyed the faint coating of dirt, noting how far up the arrow shaft it went. He tried imagining how deep the arrow could have gone if it had entered his chest instead.

"Is that your bow? You look awfully small to be using a weapon like that."

Yoichi stiffened and mashed his lips together. "I'll grow into it. I—I have to be ready."

"Ready? For what?"

He hesitated and glanced away, feeling the stranger's dark gaze bore into him. Yoichi curled his fingers into shaking fists. If he was too weak to look a man in the eye or pull a bowstring, how could he ever kill a vampire?

"Mmm, ye-es," the stranger continued when Yoichi remained silent, the sound sending shivers down Yoichi's spine. It didn't help that he was circling Yoichi, eyeing him like wounded prey. "Too small for a weapon like this. Perhaps we can trade. You would like my weapon much more."

Yoichi's eyes snapped back to the man and the slender black bow he held. It looked slimmer and more manageable than the bow resting by Yoichi's side, but he wasn't knowledgeable enough about weaponry to know if it was a fair trade. _Still—_

"This, uh, this isn't mine. I wouldn't—"

"Does it belong to a family member? A father? A brother?" Another pause. "A sister long gone?"

Yoichi winced. "It's not mine to trade."

Gekkōin remained undeterred. He squatted down in front of Yoichi, leaning forward with narrowed eyes and upturned lips. "Very well. Perhaps we can find something else to trade? I love good bargains."

Certain syllables would cause the stranger's lips to lift higher, exposing sharper than natural canines. _Like vampires,_ Yoichi shuddered.

Yoichi didn't like making deals with suspicious strangers, especially those with vampire teeth and crimson eyes. He shook his head after one last longing look to the smaller bow. He didn't trust himself to speak or the stranger not to tangle his words.

"I can see the desire in your eyes. A desire for something darker than snaring a few rabbits." Gekkōin knocked against Yoichi's chest with balled knuckles before straightening up and moving from Yoichi's line of sight. The force wasn't heavy, but Yoichi felt the breath driven from his lungs nonetheless. He remained rigid, staring wide-eyed at the uprooted arrow in his lap. He slowly allowed himself to breathe again, straining his ears for the sound of departure.

When he finally turned around, Gekkōin was gone. His black bow remained in the clearing, glinting in the midmorning sun. Yoichi wondered what he had to offer that could have possibly satisfied the stranger.

* * *

The trip to Kiso continued without any major incident. At least, Guren assumed they were nearing the small trading post, judging from the various signs they passed. The dilapidated condition of the markers inspired little confidence, as did the complete lack of travelers on the wide road.

"Are you sure this isn't a trap? Because this is exactly how a trap would look," Shinya broke the silence after nearly an hour of walking. "A little too on-the-nose, don't you think?"

"If it's a trap, it's not one of mine. I prefer subtlety."

Shinya snorted, causing Guren to stumble at the unexpected sound. "Subtlety? Well, I guess you only burned down _one_ room and not the entire castle. And then you dragged the crown prince through some _hidden_ tunnels instead of out the main gate. So, yeah. Subtle."

Guren scowled. He was torn between defending himself—he hadn't set out to burn the room down; the room had been his at one time, after all—and telling Shinya to shut up. Instead, he settled for a more _subdued_ response.

"Wait—were you _awake_ the whole damn time? You made me _drag_ your worthless ass through those filthy tunnels? And you were _awake_?!"

" _Relax,_ Guren." Shinya waved away Guren's irritated expression with a laugh. "I only know what you told me. I don't remember anything after Mahiru tried to strangle me."

"Nothing else?"

"Well, maybe the headache too, but that was probably from the poison." Shinya rubbed the base of his ear thoughtfully. His spindly fingers disappeared under a curtain of silver hair, the same spot where Guren had smashed Shinya's head against the tunnel entrance. _Accidentally,_ Guren reminded himself.

"Right. The poison." Guren fell silent again. He hadn't told Shinya everything about his conversation with Mahiru and especially not the more embarrassing bits.

(He also had no idea where the fire had come from, but now safely out of the flames, it no longer seemed as pressing of an issue. Shinya couldn't offer any suggestions either, shrugging whenever the topic came up.)

Shinya changed the subject as they neared another distance marker. "Looks like we should be coming up to Kiso soon. The road is getting wider too." He frowned, scuffing at the soggy leaves coating a shallow rut in the middle of the direct road. "It looks like some sort of wagon line passed by. Maybe traders…but it must have been a while ago. The leaves are already rotting. I don't think anyone's been by in a least a week, maybe longer."

It certainly ruled out bandit traps, but the thought didn't make Guren feel any better. He appreciated the isolation, but being utterly abandoned on a strange forest road went too far. And with Shinya as his only companion, sometimes it grew to be downright torturous.

However, things only became more puzzling when the road brought them up a hill with an unobstructed view into the valley where Kiso was supposed to lie. Guren could see thatched roofs and plots of withered gardens, but no people milling about.

"Do you think Kiso might have been abandoned? The signs looked old and I don't see anyone down there."

"They could be in for the day."

 _At this time?_ Guren doubted it. He frowned and reached for his map. "We should keep following the road. We have sup—"

"An entire town doesn't just pack up and _move,_ Guren. Besides, we would have heard about it." Shinya squinted at the town, sweeping his gaze back and forth slowly. "There has to be some explanation."

Guren agreed there probably was an explanation, but he wasn't particularly interested in the details.

"Hey! Guren! Look!" Shinya grabbed his arm and pointed at a thin curl of smoke rising presumably from a chimney. "Someone's there. Maybe they can tell us what happened. You have to be a little bit curious."

"I'm not."

Shinya laughed, expecting nothing less. He kept moving, turning back periodically to wave Guren on. With a relenting sigh, Guren loosened his body and followed Shinya. He chalked his churning gut up to hunger rather than apprehension, but it was a bad lie.

* * *

Whatever things Guren expected to see at the town's entrance, an abandoned circus camp was not one of them. Large, colorful tents were still propped up, though many seemed to be in some state of collapse. Empty cages and wagons rested nearby, devoid of the beasts that lived inside or pulled the carts.

Guren had seen traveling circuses before, enjoying the sights and sounds from the safety of his father's shoulder. Seeing the camp without the motion and music he knew should have been there made his skin crawl.

He turned to see Shinya's expression, noting that his companion seemed even more startled by the turn of events. The sight was creepy, certainly, but Shinya almost looked ill. His gaze lingered on the tattered sapphire bunting, drooping mournfully without a breeze.

Guren reached forward to tap Shinya's arm, only earning a startled jump and a frown for his efforts.

"What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing's wrong with me. I—this is really weird."

Weird was an understatement. They were standing at the crossroads of a circus camp and a trading town and had yet to hear a single sound.

"Not into exploring anymore, huh?"

Shinya shot him a flat look before striding towards the circus camp entrance. Guren shook his head before trailing after him. Why was he going along with this? Damned if he knew.

At least he could make things more efficient.

"There's no one here, so we might as well split up. We'll cover more ground and then we can get the hell out of here sooner."

"No argument here. The sooner the better," Shinya agreed, veering off towards the animal cages. Guren watched Shinya disappear around a partially collapsed tent before turning his attention to the well-trodden path that led to the mouth of the camp.

He sighed and started moving, resisting the silly urge to call out for anyone lurking nearby. If there were people living in these conditions, Guren wouldn't want to cross paths, certain they would be insane or murderous.

Fortunately, there weren't any signs of recent human habitation as he made his way closer to the center of the camp. He relaxed, loosening his tense shoulders and letting senses other than his ears and eyes take over.

Guren took a hesitant sniff and instantly regretted it. There had been a sticky sweet smell on the breeze, but he had attributed it to a dead animal or some rotting food. However, the smell grew stronger as he moved further through the abandoned camp. Soon, he could no longer ignore the smell, rising and smothering him like a strange, insufferable heat. Guren coughed and rubbed at his nose, electing to take shallow breaths through his mouth. Even pulling the collar of his shirt up to his nose barely stopped the rancid smell.

 _This isn't a dead rabbit. It has to be something bigger._

Guren rounded a corner and immediately stumbled backwards, gagging at the overwhelming wall of stench that slammed into him. He doubled over and willed the tickle of vomit in the back of his throat to lessen. He slowly brought his watering eyes up, body rigid as his mind struggled to process the sight.

He had seen death before, walking amongst the fallen bodies of his family's soldiers and his enemies. Hell, he had _caused_ death, being the one to wield the sword. But this—

This was different, unnatural. Bodies littered the ground in various shapes and sizes. Every victim showed signs of a terrible trauma, ranging from torn limbs to disemboweled stomachs. The exposed tatters of skin had already begun to fester under the hot sun, glistening different shades of yellow, green, and brown. Other sections of shredded flesh were older, dried and leather-like with slivers of cleaned bone poking through. Guren closed his eyes, wishing he could take a deep breath, but knowing how much his nose would regret it.

He took another step forward and lowered himself to a knee, careful to stay clear of the congealed goop that spread from the nearest body. The wounds were sharp, jagged, and animalistic—more similar to ripping and biting than any sort of manmade warfare. He focused his gaze on the torsos and limbs. Even though decomposition had twisted the victims' features beyond recognition, the sun and time could not erase all signs of panic: gaping jaws and enlarged hollows where eyes had been.

Guren shook his head and straightened up. There was nothing more he could do here. Whatever killed these people was long gone.

He glanced at a giant pawprint and frowned, brow furrowing as he studied the deep imprint. A few drops of blood pooled in the dip of one of the toes, shiny and bright.

 _The blood's fresh. It's—it's still here._

Guren gaze followed the animal's freshest trail until it disappeared between two empty cages.

 _Shit! Shinya!_

Before he realized what he was doing, Guren was already running.

* * *

Shinya had noticed the smell as well, but the wind kept the brunt of the stench away. It was no worse than rotting meat.

 _It's probably the leftover cuts from whatever they used to feed the animals._ Shinya had some experience with traveling circuses like these; he knew firsthand of the appetites possessed by the show stopping beasts.

He looped between the discarded cages and crates, encouraged after seeing no one and nothing. It felt strange to be in a place like this again, doubly so to see it abandoned.

The familiarities between his memories and the present were a bit disconcerting. He stopped in front of an unnervingly large cage and ran a tentative finger over the lock mechanism. He imagined the key that opened this door looked similar to the key he used to keep safe in a breast pocket.

Shinya continued to wander around the outside of the camp, more consumed with his thoughts than searching for clues to the circus troupe's whereabouts. He hadn't seen any signs of the animals either. He had passed a thick layer of hay, dry and brittle and no longer suitable for the missing horses, but he hadn't found the source of the sickly-sweet meat scent.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when he stepped on a crumpled flyer, the crackle being the first loud sound he had heard since leaving Guren. He stooped down to pick it up, handling the weather-worn page carefully. He squinted at the faded characters before his eyes widened.

 _The troupe's name is something Midnight. Midnight…wasn't that the name of—_

Shinya jerked his head up at the sound of crunching hay. He glanced around but the only movement was from the deep blue flags swaying in the breeze.

"You can come out now, Guren. Don't even both trying to sneak up on me. I have something pretty crazy to tell yo—"

Shinya spun around at another crunch, this time behind him.

 _Damn. That's not Guren._

He inhaled sharply, feeling his chest burn as he held the breath in. Glassy gray eyes watched him a few meters away. A crimson-matted chin hung loosely, pink tongue lolling over yellowed teeth.

Shinya swallowed and held his hands out in front of his chest. As if that could save him.

"Byakkomaru?"

* * *

 **Thanks for reading!**

Aha, see what I mean from things going from 0 to 60? Let me know what you think!


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note:** Here's chapter ten! I hope you enjoy!

* * *

Guren had already taken three steps before he realized the danger he was hurtling towards. Some creature had disemboweled and mutilated what Guren assumed to have been a once _lively_ circus troupe. He also didn't know what he was chasing after. Judging from the pawprints and the severe state of carnage, he guessed it wasn't some ornery stray.

Still, he refused to slow his pace, only pausing once to re-evaluate the prints for his next turn. If he were smart, he would have run in the exact opposite direction, but he couldn't abandon Shinya.

Guren stumbled to a stop when he caught sight of Shinya standing at the opposite edge of a clearing. His shoulders slumped in relief and he almost called out to him, ready for some snarky comment to cover up his embarrassing worry. However, he frowned when he noticed how rigid Shinya stood, how his eyes were focused on something else.

"Shinya?" Guren ventured, only speaking as loud as he dared. He still couldn't see the creature, but he could smell the same sickly rot smell from the corpses.

"Guren." Shinya's tone was clipped, devoid of its usual humor. He spared Guren a quick glance, but an unseen rumble quickly drew back his attention. "You should get out of here. Has he seen you yet?"

Guren didn't think so. At least, he hoped the monster hadn't been watching him without his knowledge.

"I—" Guren clamped his lips shut and decided that silence might be better. He shook his head, but Shinya was too focused on whatever was approaching to spare another look in his direction. Shinya straightened up with another audible swallow, his splayed fingers widening even more.

Dry hay crackled under a noticeably heavy shift in weight and Guren found himself leaning forward, drawn to the sound despite his screaming sense of self-preservation urging him to run. A large creature lumbered closer towards Shinya, the powerful muscles along its shoulders and back rippling with each step. Shinya took a step back to counter the creature's approach.

Guren blinked, momentarily stunned by the huge creature. Its black-tipped tail flicked and trembled, reminding Guren of the barn cats when they found a wounded bird.

 _Is that…a tiger?_ He had only seen them in faded picture books, colored a dingy orange instead of a snowy white. Still, the stripes were indisputable.

"Guren," Shinya insisted again, his voice lower. " _Go._ I can handle this."

 _Handle this?_ Guren frowned, not sure if he should be impressed by Shinya's bravery or concerned by his stupidity.

"Handle this? A bowl of milk and a scratch behind the ears won't fix this." Guren hissed back. The tiger's ears swiveled at Guren's voice, but its attention remained fixed on Shinya.

"This might be hard to believe, but I know him. Sort of. Err—and I'm _really_ hoping he remembers me."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Guren eyed the tiger, shifting from foot to foot. His legs were itching to run, but he refused to leave Shinya or turn his back to the tiger. _The idiot told you to go; maybe you should listen to him for once._

However, apart from a low grumbling deep in its chest, the tiger seemed to be calm. It watched Shinya carefully, head tilted at an angle Guren might have called cute under different circumstances.

 _Maybe Shinya does know him?_ Guren didn't understand, but he sure as hell wouldn't question it if it meant they would survive with all limbs attached.

Instead of answering, Shinya returned his concentration to the tiger, fingers curling slightly like a weak wave. "Hey, Byakkomaru… You remember me, don't you, boy? Huh?"

The tiger's nostrils flared as it released a breathy snort. It sounded like a rather benign sneeze to Guren, but Shinya's expression brightened at the sound. He even took a step closer to the tiger, causing Guren to smother a frustrated groan under mashed lips. Instead, he curled his loose fingers into tight fists and rolled his eyes helplessly to the tattered bunting above them.

 _What the fuck is he doing? Now he's_ trying _to get killed._

"Yeah," Shinya grinned, stretching his fingers horizontally rather than keeping them vertical. "You remember me? That's a good boy." The tiger made the same breathy grunting sound, head tilting at an even sharper angle as it followed the motion of Shinya's hands. He murmured soft words under his breath, too low for Guren to hear, though they seemed to soothe the tiger even further.

Guren watched with stifled breath, momentarily trapped in Shinya calming spell as well.

 _Bang!_

A heavy slamming sound echoed nearby, as jarring as a cannon shot. Guren jerked his head towards the sound, eyes darting from dilapidated tents to the town's outer wall. _What the—_

Shinya turned reflexively, upper body pivoting for a second before his attention snapped back to the tiger. However, the spell was broken.

Either startled by the sound or by Shinya's momentarily lapse in concentration, the tiger snarled and lurched towards Shinya. Shinya stumbled back, tripping over a discarded plank and falling heavily on his backside. He scrambled to get away, kicking at the dusty ground for purchase.

"Guren! Get out of here!"

Gone was the calm and collected Shinya. He tried to keep a neutral expression as he kept shouting the tiger's name, but his eyes were a little too wide and his mashed lips a little too pale.

Instead of fleeing, Guren took a horrified step forward, unable to intervene as the tiger raised a heavy paw. With an inhuman speed, the tiger swatted at Shinya's chest, sending him sprawling with a cry of pain.

 _"Shinya!"_

Guren's knee-jerk reaction was to rush to Shinya's crumpled form, but the tiger's low growling kept him rooted to the spot. He craned his neck, unable to see the extent of Shinya's injury around the tiger's hulking form.

"Shinya! Can you hear me? Damn it, Shinya. Say something!"

No sound or movement from Shinya, but Guren didn't know if it was an intentional decision or an irreversible consequence. The tiger bent its head and snuffled, brushing its stained muzzle over Shinya's pale face.

 _Shit. Shit. Shit._ Guren repeated the phrase in his mind, hating how helpless he sounded. He reflexively patted his pockets for some sort of weapon and felt the jagged bulkiness of his flint. Guren's gaze dropped to the piles of dried hay surrounding the clearing.

 _That's it!_

Guren dropped to his knees and scraped the surrounding hay into a low mound. He imagined the tiger slinking towards him, the sound of paws padding across the dirt drowned out by his pounding heart and muttered curses. He fumbled with the flint, striking the blunt of his blade against the sharpened edge of the stone.

"Dammit. Come _on!"_

A few sparks exploded from the friction and landed on the pile of brittle straw. Guren stooped lower, resting on his flattened forearms as he breathed life into the smoldering sparks. After a few desperate puffs, the smoldering took off, catching on the dried hay with a satisfying crackle. The fire quickly spread, consuming the hay piles and a nearby tent with indiscriminate gusto.

Guren scrambled to his feet to escape the overwhelming heat, stumbling towards the center of the clearing with hoarse coughs. Out of the corner of his eye, he noted the tiger was too busy snarling and batting at the flames to notice his presence.

Through the swelling curtain of smoke, he could see Shinya struggling to sit up, arms pressed tightly to his chest.

 _He's still alive._

Guren rushed towards him, dropping to a knee next to Shinya. Shinya recoiled at the sudden shift in movement before realizing who was beside him.

"What happened? Did I—" He glanced around, eyes wide at the fiery carnage around them.

"Can you get up?" Guren interrupted, cutting Shinya off mid-question. They didn't have much time before the flames became inescapable, but he wanted a quick check of Shinya's status before jostling him.

"Yeah, I think. Would you mind, uh—?"

He helped Shinya into a seated position, eyeing the shredded and stained front of his shirt. Shinya shifted his arm into a makeshift cradle against his chest.

"It's just a scratch. Nothing serious."

Guren frowned. It looked like more than a scratch, but Shinya was conscious and his limbs were still attached, so there wasn't a reason to stick around any longer than they had to. He gingerly looped an arm around Shinya's right side and hoisted him up.

"Come on. We have to go."

Shinya swayed on his feet, leaning heavily against Guren's shoulder. He squinted into the thickening clouds. "Did Byakkomaru make it out?"

Guren looked back to where he had seen the tiger, but it was gone. A problem Guren would worry about later.

 _If I were him, I wouldn't be so concerned about the thing that tried to eat me._ Guren shrugged, tightening his grip around Shinya's torso as they staggered towards the narrow break in the fire.

"Don't know, don't fucking care as long as it leaves us alone," he grunted.

Shinya nodded and fell silent, allowing Guren to guide them towards the town's entrance. The sound that prompted the tiger into attacking had come from within the town walls. Something or someone was still inside.

Guren fervently wished for the latter. He had his fill of dangerous creatures for the day.

* * *

After they had passed through the main gates, Shinya tried to shrug Guren off, claiming he was fine to walk on his own. Guren let Shinya detangle himself, but he kept an arm hovering near Shinya's back in case he stumbled again.

Guren's gaze shifted from the wound to Shinya's sweat-laced face. He had felt smothered by the heat when they pushed through the fire, but the cool breeze had soothed his flush. Shinya, however, still looked sickly and overheated.

 _To hell with the tiger and whatever else is here—we need to rest a night here._

 _Bang!_

Guren swiveled his head while Shinya cringed at the sound. It was closer and louder than before, but still undecipherable. A flash of movement caught his eye and Guren saw a thin figure pause before swinging an axe into the side of a house several meters away.

 _Bang!_

"Hey!" Guren called out, taking a step forward. The stranger froze before bolting around the corner.

 _Dammit._

"Stay here."

"Wha—Hey! Come back!"

Guren raced after the stranger, darting through narrow alleyways and cutting through abandoned houses. He could hear Shinya's confused call somewhere behind him, but he kept running.

He skidded to a stop when he lost his quarry between two empty horse stalls. He glanced around, but jerked out of the way when a sloppily swung axe nearly cut off an arm. The momentum of the swing forced the stranger out of hiding and Guren grabbed his collar and shook him until he dropped the axe.

"You could have cut my damn arm off!" Guren glared at the stranger before realizing his assailant was a kid. Albeit, a tall kid, but a kid who should have known better.

The kid pursed his lips and glanced away. "What else was I supposed to do? You were chasing me."

Guren rolled his eyes, but shifted his grip to the kid's shoulder. "That's beside the point. Come on—we have to go find another idiot." He dared the kid to object, tightening his hold. They backwound through the deserted town, the boy muttering directions when Guren prompted him.

"Making friends, Guren?" Shinya perked up when they reappeared, rising from his perch on a discarded barrel.

The kid's wide gaze dropped to Shinya's bloodstained shirt. "You saw it then? The beast?"

"You could say that."

"Is it—"

"Enough of this. Let's go. Lead the way, kid." The boy hesitated, glancing from Guren to Shinya. Guren couldn't blame him for the hesitation—he would have hated bringing strangers to his safe haven too—but he could blame him for startling the tiger, which meant he could be as gruff as necessary.

"If you don't cooperate, we'll toss you outside the town walls. The tiger has got to be hungry after such a pathetic appetizer." Guren grinned at Shinya, who did not find the joke as humorous.

The boy narrowed his eyes, but led them through the town, nonetheless.

* * *

Guren and Shinya each had questions when they finally settled into the boy's home. Shinya was polite, asking for the boy's name. Guren was more direct.

"Where is everyone?"

He opened his mouth to answer, but Shinya interrupted him with a wave of the hand. "Before you answer that—what's your name?"

He looked from Guren to Shinya, searching for a trap or an invisible right answer.

"Uh, Shihō Kimizuki. And every—"

"Great. Shihō, do you have any clean bandages or water? I think I've been horribly maimed."

Shihō nodded before disappearing through a back door. He yanked the handle, but the door bounced against the uneven frame and slowly swung back open.

Guren shot Shinya a glare and crossed his arms. Any concern he might have had for Shinya disappeared. He had thought Shinya's insufferable humor had been an attempt to torture him, but it seemed like he acted that way with everyone.

"Stop distracting him. We need to know where everyone went."

"I thought you said you weren't curious?"

Guren's scowl deepened. "That changed when we ran into a rabid tiger outside an abandoned town with some axe-happy brat as the only occupant."

Shinya nodded towards the door with an elevated eyebrow. Guren fell silent, straining to hear soft snuffles. He shifted in his seat and saw a lumpy bed through the door gap.

"Another person?" he mouthed at Shinya.

"I thought I heard something earlier, but I wasn't sure," Shinya whispered back.

Shihō returned with an armful of supplies and passed them to Shinya, who proceeded to dump them on the floor.

"Is someone else here?" Shinya asked, keeping his tone breezy. Shihō stiffened immediately, eyes darting around the room. Guren figured he was looking for something heavy or sharp, grateful he forced the kid to leave his axe at the door.

"We aren't here to hurt you or whoever's here with you." Guren flicked his wrist, trying to placate the kid. "We just want to know what the hell happened to this town."

Shihō considered Guren for a moment before settling into a distant chair, pulling his knobby knees into a crossed position. "A plague hit the town a few months ago. All the survivors left."

"You didn't go with them?"

He pursed his lips before answering Shinya's question. "My sister, Mirai. She got sick and couldn't move with the others. She's been sick far longer than anyone else. I'm not sure what that means—if she's worse off or if there's a chance she'll get better. I couldn't risk leaving and be wrong."

"And the circus troupe?"

Shihō tilted his head, considering a mental timeline of events. "They arrived about a week ago. They must not have known the town was abandoned. They offered to take Mirai and me to the next town for treatment, but then…" Shihō's expression went blank.

"Then the tiger got free and they told me to run back inside. I haven't been outside the town walls since. Are they—?"

"Gone," Guren interrupted before Shinya could answer.

"Wait—if you haven't been able to leave the town, you must be running low on supplies."

Shihō frowned at his lap.

"You've been scavenging the other houses. Probably not much left now though." Guren reconsidered their first encounter, how Shihō was swinging his axe at the wooden exterior of the houses. "And you've been chopping down houses for wood."

He shrugged. "It's not like anyone's ever going to come back and I need to boil water for Mirai."

"Pretty smart."

It wouldn't be enough, though. Guren considered Shihō's other options. The only way for the kid to survive more than a week would be to abandon his sister. Hell, he was sure the kid knew that already.

"How far is the next town?"

"No more than a day and a half," Shihō answered cautiously, eyes narrowed. Guren raised an eyebrow at Shinya, wondering if he would voice the obvious conclusion.

"Not too bad," Shinya nodded with a knowing _hum._ "We have some extra supplies and you're free to take what you need. We can restock when we get to the next town."

 _"Wait a second—"_

"Hey, Guren. Where's your bag?"

"It's still at the front gate. But go back to—"

"That's a weird place to leave it."

"I was preoccupied by the _giant tiger_ about to kill you."

Ignoring Guren completely, Shinya turned back to an uncertain Shihō with a bright smile. "Don't worry. Guren will go fetch it for us."

"I'm doing _what?_ What part of giant fucking _tiger_ did you not hear?" Guren tried to sound frustrated, but he was already on his feet. He had planned to check for the tiger anyway and the day's excitement had made him damn hungry. Besides, being in a plague-infested town made him uneasy and he was eager for some fresh, albeit smoky air.

Still, he couldn't let Shinya know this.

"It probably burned up in the fire," Guren continued to complain on his way to the door. "I lost my best flint stone too."

"And whose fault it that?"

" _Tch_. Ungrateful ass." With a final, fond grumble, Guren disappeared. Immediately, Shinya's shoulder's slumped as he gripped his injured chest with a wince. Shihō's expression, which had been fluctuating from skepticism to bemusement, shifted to concern.

"While he's out, would you mind helping me with this? Didn't have much use for knowing about this kind of thing where I came from."

Shihō nodded uncertainly, rising from his seat and shuffling towards Shinya. Gingerly, he helped Shinya shimmy out of his blood-crusted shirt. Shihō inhaled sharply at the sight, wondering how his strange visitor had managed to stay nonchalant about such a violent injury.

"See? Practically a scratch. It won't even scar." Shinya's tone was light, but it couldn't prompt a smile from Shihō.

The four gashes were short but deep, running parallel to Shinya's protruding clavicle. The inflamed, flushed skin was torn and puckered, still glossy with wet blood at the deepest points.

Shihō did his best to keep his hands steady as he helped wipe and bind the injury. He had smoothed fire from Mirai's brow and mopped fluids from her face dutifully, but it felt different tending to someone else, a stranger.

Ultimately, Shinya's shirt was a lost cause. He seemed more disappointed about the shirt than his wound, muttering about "second times" and things Shihō didn't understand. He only hesitated for a moment when Shihō offered to give him a shirt from his late father.

"Ehh, if we haven't already caught whatever hit this town, what more could an old shirt do?" He shrugged it on, delicately smoothing the oversized fabric over his new bandages.

Shihō said nothing, retreating to his chair across the room. Shinya glanced at him, perhaps waiting for a response, and Shihō shifted uncomfortably. He felt like he was being interrogated in his own home.

"We'll leave first thing in the morning," Shinya continued, when Shihō remained stone-faced. "I really appreciate your help with all this—" he gestured at his bandaged wound "— but, uh, let's not worry Guren with the gory details, all right? This will all be our secret."

Shihō nodded numbly. He didn't like the sound of secrets, but soon this bizarre duo would be gone; he and Mirai would be alone again.

"Good. I know it isn't much, but we'll leave whatever we have left."

"Thank you."

Shinya laughed and shook his head.

"I'll never hear the end of this, you know. First it was Yoichi, now you? Maybe it's best I'm not in charge of the coffers, since I keep giving our stuff away."

Shihō wasn't sure what half of that meant, so he focused on the name. "Yoichi?"

"Oh, right. Yoichi. His sister had been killed by vampires." Shihō glanced at the closed door. "I hope he's doing well."

They fell into an uncertain silence and Shihō excused himself to tend to his sister, making sure to pull the door tight this time.

Alone in a foreign house with nothing to do, Shinya tapped his chin and hummed through pressed lips.

"Hmm. Guren's taking a long time. That would be too bad if he's been eaten."

* * *

 **Thanks for reading!**

Kimizuki as a child is tricky as hell to write. I know he might have come off a little Yuu-ish, but I only had a few scenes of inspiration to work with.


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